


Under Lines

by Oswald_Cobblepot



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Attempt at Humor, Awkward Flirting, Crush at First Sight, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Drama, Drinking, Engagement, Erotica, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, Everyone Is Gay, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Drama, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff and Smut, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Forgiveness, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship / Flirting / Thinking of You Fest, Friendship/Love, Gender Related, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Horny, I'm Bad At Tagging, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Insecurity, Interracial Relationship, Introspection, Kinda, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Light-Hearted, M/M, Maid of honor, Making Out, Male Character of Color, Modern Era, Not Really But Just Wait for It, Not yet though, Nudity, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV First Person, Penises, Physical Disability, Platonic Cuddling, Porn with Feelings, Profanity, Relationship(s), Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Tension, Slice of Life, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Smoking, Social Anxiety, Strong Female Characters, Tags May Change, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Transgender, Twins, Work In Progress, almost, and they were roomates, bulge, commitment issues, gay wedding, not twincest just twins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:20:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26962027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oswald_Cobblepot/pseuds/Oswald_Cobblepot
Summary: Nick's two best friends, Saul and Angelo, suddenly decide to get married and invite him to be the "maid of honor" of their ceremony. That's the starting point of a whole new chapter in his life, filled with fearful yet necessary new encounters, moving forward from scars of the past and of the present, and maybe even a new shot at love, while having fun and working hard for his childhood friends' wedding together with his newest crush, Akira. Will they be brave enough to take this step forward?
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 2





	1. Prologue

#  **Prologue**

It’s almost impossible to predict the end of things, but I think it’s very unlikely that we walk blindly into them. The end rarely comes out of the blue, so much so that there’s the solidified expression “beginning of the end”. We don’t happen upon endings, we happen upon beginnings and lead them into ends, sometimes prematurely, and although we can see we seldom stop and look at the actions and reactions happening all the time.

I had been acutely unaware of my own situations; or rather, acutely  _ aware _ and purposely pushing it back into the recesses of my mind, brushing them off as coincidences, or mistiming, or the growth and maturing of our turbulent relationship. Ironically, when I thought we had finally found stability, I stumbled upon the beginning of the end, too late to be able to do anything about it but watch as it crumbled down to our feet.


	2. The V.I.P.

The situation had become quite unbelievable around that brunch table by the big stained window at Marshall’s, our favorite restaurant as of late—meaning, they were obsessed with that place and I loved the free fancy food I’d be getting. It was two-thirty in the afternoon, but the sun still shone brightly against my eyes like it was just noon, reflected in the big stone sitting on top of Saul’s ring finger. The giant smile in his face was even brighter, and I could only imagine his eyes were sparkling too, despite him only having eyes for his newly-turned fiancé.

“No one’s interested in your chewed up lunch, Mary” Saul said when he finally realized I was still sitting there in front of them, still wide-eyed and still having my jaw hanging. I wasn’t prepared for his snarky commentary and ended up laughing at his sarcasm, finally being freed from my surprised frozenness.

“Sorry, Nick, we know it’s a little shocking,” Angelo mumbled, reaching out a hand my way and giving me a warm, condescending smile. Even though I didn’t show it in my face, I’d sure as hell be thinking about it for a long time, like when I found out that Santa wasn’t real or when I caught mom and dad doing it.

“No! I’m happy for you guys!” I protested, sounding less convincing than I wanted to. I was genuinely excited that those two had finally hit off with each other, but I couldn’t help but worry that they were going just a liiiitle bit too fast. Their faces contorted the same way, and I snorted, realizing they were probably making the right decision. “I was startled by how fast things went with you, but I’m really happy, and I’ll support you all as I always do. I’m really proud.”

Both of them held back the tears and I found myself having to do the same as I squeezed the hands they offered me. We had been the three amigos for the past twenty five years of our lives and that would never change, the only difference was that now two of the amigos would be married to each other.

Saul had always had a thing for Angelo, who had always been too much of a wild card for any of us to try and guess what went on inside his head. He was such a mystery, such a brick wall, that not even his own mother had any idea he was gay, until one day he decided to come out—Saul and I had been in that awkward dinner, by the way, and the expression “a second of silence that went on for an eternity” had never made so much sense. That was also the first time we had ever heard of him being gay, and since then Saul had attempted to appeal to him, even though his signals were so subtle they would never have registered on Angelo’s dense radar.

“Speaking of supporting, then,” Saul recomposed himself at the speed of light after a little clearing of his throat and a sniff of his nose. “We’d like to propose something to you. Bestow, even. An amazing opportunity that’s also an honor”

“Here we go”

I braced myself, gulping down the rest of the water that was refilled as soon as I placed my glass on the table.

“We want you to be our maid of honor,” Angelo squealed. I had never seen a grin this big across his face, and that alone spooked me more than anything else.

“The what?” I asked, after eventually understanding, and had to blurt out the immediate next question. “Why me?”

“Well, we’ve known each other since we were kids, and we wanted you to be a part of the big next step in our lives”

“And maybe that’ll distract you a bit from the shit show you’ve been living lately because of that gallbladder…” Saul muttered, and Angelo was quick to shut him up with a tap directly into Saul’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” they said in unison. I dismissed it with a light shake of head.

“It’s alright,” I lied. “Shouldn’t I be the best man, though?”

Saul laughed maniacally.

“Cause as far as we know you never popped your cherry, which means you might as well be the _only_ maid at the wedding day” Saul’s diabolical smirk was already driving me insane. “Also, gender roles in the 21st century? Grow up!”

“We already have a best man” Angelo explained then, completely ignoring his partner’s sardonic statements. “Sam was with us when I proposed, and this one ended up offering the position in the heat of the moment.” He was pointing his thumb to Saul, who bit his fingertip jokingly. That tiny flirt alone almost led them to a full-on makeout session, that I interrupted by waving my hand at them.

Sam, huh… the _infamous_ Sam. Both of them would not shut up about this supernatural existence that Sam was, how amazing and talented and funny and whatnot. They had met Sam no longer than three months ago—when they had been going out for a little over five months—at the same gay bar they used to love dragging me to drag shows with. Unfortunately, that was around the time I was forbidden to go out past ten by my then girlfriend, so I had never had my fateful meeting with this almost mythical creature. Still, I couldn’t help but feel sad that they’d let _Sam_ be the witness of the proposal and not me.

“We arranged for you to meet on Saturday,” Angelo was more excited than he’d ever been. I frowned and tilted my head in confusion, and he shrugged. I didn’t really know how weddings worked, but I was sure that wasn’t a necessary step. “Since there’s no ‘bride’ and ‘groom’ in this marriage in particular, instead of having one of you follow each of us around like little puppies and throwing showers and tea parties, suit fittings and so on, we decided you two should get together and cut our workload in half.”

“What do you mean, _your_ workload? We’re gonna be the ones going around and preparing the stuff for you, right?”

“The fact that you call the wedding preparations ‘the stuff’ should already be proof enough that we’re gonna have way more trouble than you, honey” Saul used that condescending gay tone that made me roll my eyes, biting back a smirk. “And plus, we only need you two to organize the bachelor parties and do some minor tasks, like sending out the invitations and doing the fittings of your suits and rehearsals.”

“Sam’s on it. Also, if you could prepare a little something to say at the reception, it’d be nice too…” Angie whispered, trying not to sound demanding.

“Don’t we have to help you both pick suits or something?” I felt like asking, and they both bursted into laughter. I stood there, looking like a fool in front of the entire clientele of the restaurant as those two scandalous hookers had the time of their lives.

“Did you _honestly_ think we would let _you_ help in that department?” Saul sounded not only in disbelief, his tone was almost offended. “Honey, I mean well when I say this, but we don’t wanna turn our wedding into an indie theme party”

“Great! I’m glad y’all still love me despite my terminal case of bad style.” I rolled my eyes at them, trying my best attempt at giving them attitude as they went for another round of chuckles. Nothing entertained them more than a grown straight black man pretending to be Regina George. “So you basically need two bell-boys at your disposition to fetch stuff and do the manual labor?”

“Exactly!” Saul was ecstatic that I’d finally understood. I nodded.

“Got it. When and where do I meet this Sam, thief of positions, then?”

“Saturday, 10 a.m. at the V.I.P., right at the benches near the main entrance” Angelo said before I had even finished my question. “Take a coat, it’s always kinda chilly in there…” he dared to say, in the middle of the summer.

* * *

Funny enough, the V.I.P. had also become one of Saul and Angelo’s favorite spots in town, even though we used to roast it so harshly when the projects were first announced. It didn’t have anything to do with parties or the sort—it was actually a flattering abbreviation to a name none of us would like it to have, and by “us” I mean everybody in the city of Franklin.

The Victoria Inwood Park, smartly shortened to V.I.P. by Angelo, had been inaugurated about half a year ago, after more than seven years of builders taking the entire community on a ride over it. Everything took an excruciating time to be decided, and of course, not even in this they could reach an agreement on: instead of giving it a simple, effective name, like Riverwalk Park or something—since the biggest attraction of the park was going to be the river and the ducks anyway—, they kept mulling over which ancient member of the community to pay homage to. It would have been fine, too, had they chosen someone who actually was an important figure for the neighborhood; instead they decided on someone who not only had lived here for the shortest while a billion years ago, but also had had absolutely no impact on the community at all.

Despite its bad rep right out of the gates, the V.I.P. was a pretty decent park, and it had a charming small-town feel to it, despite Franklin being everything _but_ that. The large walkways surrounded by oak, cherry and maple trees gave it a refreshing air as we ventured into it, with many benches and spots for the kiosks and food trucks that recently seemed to multiply. The open areas with yellowish green grass were perfect for picnics and sports, or to just lay down and stare at the starless grey night sky.

Saturday at 9:21 a.m., I was sitting in my car at the parking lot of the V.I.P., growing stiff by the second at the prospects of meeting “Sam”. At this point, I wasn’t even sure that was a real person anymore; maybe that had all been a super elaborate prank only Saul and Angelo could pull off. Or rather, a prank Saul would forcibly convince Angelo into participating. Either way, meeting someone new—on a weekend, on top of that—was way past my comfort zone, and imagining the horrible reputation I might already have from the sheer fact that the link between us was a couple of professional gossipers was making my stomach turn.

Angelo messaged me the night before to inform me that Sam would be right by the main gates, wearing blue and probably with a hat or a cap. I told him I wanted to back down from my duties immediately and he just ordered me to shut up and wear the good grey t-shirt, not the one filled with holes that made me look like an adolescent hipster. As I sat in the car, I wondered if Saul’s monstrous personality would rub off on Angelo, making me have two equally mean friends instead of a little devil and a little angel. I decided on smoking one last cigarette before going in.

Making my way to the entrance, I observed two very distinct types of people passing by at that hour: the people who were there to exercise, to socialize or to recharge their batteries, and to whom the park was an end, not a means; and the people to whom the park was merely a passageway from point A to point B, an embellished shortcut to get to where they needed to be.

I put out my cigarette just short of reaching the gates and threw the butt into the first trash can I saw. I looked around again, observing the joggers, the dog-walkers, the kids running around in the empty mini-field to the left of me, and the people sitting on the benches near the entrance. Most of them were old people sitting around and talking, some of them about one subject in specific: the person in the blue shirt.

For her, the park was neither a means nor an end. To her, the V.I.P. was a moving, breathing picture developing as time went on, and the sway of the trees and the flow of the river, together with the worrylessness of the children playing around, made the scene very beautiful. Truly worth sitting backwards on the bench, legs crossed with the knees against the backrest, the elbows on top of it to support the longing gaze of appreciation she had to have behind her sunglasses. She even had an earphone on with a personal soundtrack. I was immediately fascinated, and couldn’t help but want to see the world through her eyes.

Looking closely, her shirt was actually a blue blouse, very thin, very chic. Almost too chic for a walk in the park, but the campy black shorts and the sneakers left on the ground relaxed the piece of clothing into a more casual aura. Three fingers tapped at the rhythm of the song that played through the earphone. As I made my way toward her, I observed the abandoned items that were no longer the main focus of attention: a thick green book, a big brown envelope, a half-empty bottle of water, a leather jacket, and a small black digital Canon camera.

“Sam?” I experimented calling, still from a safe distance, but no reactions came. I coughed. “Sam?” I tried again, but still no luck.

By the time of my third call, I was already right beside her, and I poked her shoulder lightly, wondering what the hell should I do if I had the wrong person. Startled, she looked over her shoulder and took the earphone off without even bothering to turn off the music.

“Sam?” I tried asking one more time, and she tilted her head.

She took off her sunglasses and turned to me with her whole body then, putting her hands against the seating behind her to support her back as she looked up to me. She checked me up and down and simpered, as I shyly backed away two steps, feeling my heart wiggle around inside my rib cage for a moment.

“Oh! Hi! Sorry, uhm…” she said, embarrassed. “ I’m actually Sam’s twin sister, Akira” I shook the hand she offered and ended up helping her to her feet as she put her snickers back on, still too stunned to even think of saying anything.

She was beautiful. Her contagious smile felt warm like the sun in my lips, and the glitter in her eyes was no short of divine. She was tall and slim, around my age, and looked like a grounded, gentle type of person. At the same time, she looked too good to be true, and I had to stop myself from pinching my cheeks in the middle of the park as the attention of the whole park seemed to turn to us.

“It’s meet beautiful a pleasure to… I mean…” I fumbled my words and grunted in frustration, but she just chuckled cutely. “Nice to meet you. You’re very beautiful,” I managed to say, after a deep breath and a mental slap. “Sorry I’m an idiot”

“It’s fine, who doesn’t love a goofball, right?” she teased, and I scratched my nape timidly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, as well. I heard you’d be meeting my brother, and since I was sure he was gonna be late I came to your rescue instead,” she explained, after my lack of response. I couldn’t help but admire her. “So you’re Nikolaj?” she seemed confused, and I stopped myself from laughing at it.

“It’s actually pronounced ‘Nicholay’, but you can call me Nick. And don’t feel sorry, it could be worse. My dad’s name choice was Bradley, if you can believe that” I tried to joke, and she snickered lightly.

“No, I’m… pleasantly surprised, actually” she said, with an alluring smile. 

Before we could say anything more, she turned her eyes to the entrance of the V.I.P., where a man who looked exactly like Akira came running. He also wore a very similar light blue shirt, but his style was completely different, much more formal, sticking out like a sore thumb in the park’s picture. He waved and rushed towards us, catching his breath for a second before greeting us.

As they stood side by side, it was possible to see that the big strokes had been the same: dark shiny eyes and monolids, pinkish lips, chiseled jaws and protruding chins, thick black hair and sunkissed skin. She was actually an inch or two taller than him—still about half a foot smaller than me, though—and had a distinctive scar on her right cheek, from the beginning of her ear to the middle of the hollow of her cheek, but overall they looked exactly the same from first glance.

Looking closely, they were completely different people, despite having the same teeth in their smiles. Where he was boxy and contained, in body and in language, she was fluid and expressive. They both looked athletic, but he was more or less rectangular, while she had subtle curves on her waist and hips, and a petite chest that actually looked smaller than his. She smiled a lot and had arched full eyebrows that emphasized every single emotion that ran through her face. He had some pimple scars on his skin and a permanent furrow line between his sparse, shapeless brows, but his and her faces both had a gentleness about them.

They exchanged a short smile and she told him something in Japanese that led him to roll his eyes at her, right before turning them to me and giving me a polite, plastic smile. We shook hands and introduced ourselves, but his reaction to my name wasn’t nearly as interesting as hers had been, so it felt uncomfortable to joke about it. I wondered for a fraction of second if this was going to end up like one of those middle-school situations: two kids who never met each other having to collaborate on a group work and tolerate each other for a long time. That would suck.

“So, my dear children,” Akira came between us, holding one in each arm. “Now that we’re all gathered, I can confess I am _starving_ , so how ‘bout we all go to the eating area, huh?”


	3. Guest Room

It took me a while, but what Akira said about her “coming to my rescue” made total sense as we sat down at one of the dark-green iron chairs and tables at the eating area of the V.I.P. Akira delighted herself with an overly-priced fruit salad from one of the food trucks that were already around, as I struggled hard to understand any of the bullet points in Sam’s to-do list. Actually, sometimes even Akira would shoot a glare of confusion in his direction, but mostly she’d exchange secretive glances of mockery with me, concealing her smirks by chewing down pieces of not-so-fresh fruit.

“Do you think it’s too much?” he finally asked.

“A little” I confessed shyly, and Akira snorted.

“I told you!”

“Saul and Angelo are extra people!” he tried to justify himself, shrugging.

“Even then…” I said, scratching my head. “I dunno, it just seems too…”

“Convoluted” Akira said what I wouldn’t dare to, and I almost sighed in relief as she did. She pulled out the envelope she had with her, giving us some papers and keeping one for herself. “After you showed me that shit-show the other night I thought of this instead, I think it’d be more doable for the two of you.”

The paper she offered already had set dates and times in them, whereas Sam’s had so many days and options the events could be narrowed down to basically any time, anywhere. Her schedule consisted of four main events: the two bachelors’ parties, the party she called a “groomal shower”, and the rehearsal dinner. Since the wedding was ten months away, our time might have seemed pretty long, but it was actually short if you considered all of the bureaucracy that we’d have to go through. That’s why, around those four main events, she pinned down suggestions for the tasks we would be doing.

“Do you have any idea about the guests or something?” she asked us. Sam and I exchanged a look that showed neither of us did. “You better have, then. The sooner you have a ballpark of how many people you’ll have to manage, the better”

“Manage?” I asked. “I thought we’d only have to take care of the menial tasks”

“Well, being best men involves you two being there for the grooms getting married, but it’s also about being a point of communication for them and for the bridesmaids, groomsmen and guests in general. In a way, you guys are going to be the main part of this wedding, because you’re gonna have the details for who, what, how and when of basically everything.”

“I don’t think they have a list for the bridesmaids and groomsmen yet.” Sam announced, but somehow I could not be surprised. It was just like those two, to get ahead of everything. “I don’t even know if they’re gonna want to have them.”

“That’s true.” I agreed. “The way those two are, it’s possible we’re gonna have to conduct their dogs down the aisle.”

“Well, I don’t know about anybody else, but I got a golden ticket for bridesmaid just yesterday in my Wonka bar” she said, showing us her phone screen with a colorful explosion of words. “Maybe they’re already recruiting their picks, and will get back to you once they have the people’s responses?”

“Why the fuck do they have to make such suspense to us, though?” Sam asked, and I chuckled.

“They’ve always been like that. We’re gonna have to sit them down and get some stuff out of them pretty soon, otherwise it’s gonna be impossible”

“For now, you should try to talk it out about these details here,” she pointed at the fetching tasks we had to do “and decide when you’d be able to get together and work these out, because some of them require the four of you to be present.”

“My schedule’s still kind of problematic,” Sam confessed, avoiding Akira’s eyes. “I don’t know if I can give dates for five months from now, but I can give you my contact details and we can manage from then on.”

“Yeah, that’s good enough,” I said “But if you don’t mind, I could go ahead and just do their website now. This way we can already have something for the ‘ballpark’ of people and keep updates as we move along.”

“Wouldn’t that take too much time?” Sam asked, concerned.

“Nah, I’m a software developer… I need another reason to hate technology” I joked, and the siblings chuckled identically.

“Okay, then. But if you need anything, don’t hesitate.”

* * *

By the time I got back to my hot, busted car, I had more-or-less of a plan of action for Saul and Angelo’s wedding, a ball of anxiety curling up against my stomach, and two new numbers in my contact list. Akira messaged me before I even started the car, apologizing for the craziness of the morning that didn’t end before two thirty in the afternoon. Truly, between focusing on my newly-acquired maid of honor powers and responsibilities and the sheer desire to toss it all up and just invite her to go grab some food somewhere, the morning had been pretty crazy, but it would have been so much worse had she not been there.

I could have gone home, but since I was already in town, I decided to make a day of it: I hit the shops, bought some new shirts and pants and a silky light blue tie, and had some good fast-food that made me feel horrible minutes after I finished it. Because I rarely eat it, I always forget how crappy fast-food makes me feel, and once I’m reminded of that, I spend another century without getting near it, only to be successfully tempted once more to re-learn my lesson.

Still, the laziness and tiredness from the adventure-filled day wasn’t enough for me to want to go back home, so I drove half-way there and reached Daniel’s house instead. Out of all of my friends, he was probably the only person who owned a property, a two-story house with two bedrooms and a big yard with a pool and everything. His new girlfriend, Jada, spent most evenings there and brought together all the walls and furniture, making the place finally feel like a home, per se. The second bedroom, curiously, had been occupied by none other than me, at least for the past few days, since I couldn’t gather up the courage to come back home.

“C’mon, dude. Again?” was his greeting once I rang the bell. Jada’s head appeared from the kitchen door.

“Just tonight. Please?”

“You’ve been saying this for three months, Nick!” he protested, while letting me in anyway. “Why can’t you just go home? She probably isn’t gonna be there…”

“I can’t, dude. I’m sorry to be such a bother, but… if I go in there and  _ she _ ’s there… I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” I said, as we both sat on the sofa.

“You’re gonna kick her ass outta there, that’s what you’re gonna do!” Jada interrupted the conversation, stomping into the living room and standing right in front of us both, hands in her waist. “Are you insane? That fuck nugget needs to leave, and you need to get your house back!”

“It’s her house too, y’know…” I tried to argue, and she rolled her eyes at me.

“It  _ was _ her house when y’all were in a relationship, compromised with each other. She doesn't have no right to say anything if you kick her out now.”

“You’re gonna have to face her either way, dude. You can’t just wing this shit like you do with the rest of your life” he added, and Jada threw the dish sponge she held on his shoulder before turning to me.

“He means that you need to settle this if you want to move on with your life, you know” she said, shooting a death glare in Dan’s direction before looking at me warmly. “Take the time you need, but the problems are still gonna be there when you go home, Nick”

* * *

That night, as I tossed and turned on that comfortable bed that didn’t belong to me, I couldn’t help but think of the situation with Lily. At this point, we had come to a dead-end, and the only thing left for us was to separate our stuff and move on. I mean, speaking of her, there’s almost nothing that I wouldn’t forgive, but after years of demanding for me to be more serious and to be willing to deepen our relationship, there would be no way that I’d be able to forget her betrayal easily.

We were one of those couples that are great for a couple of years, until we’d argue about the same problems and reach the conclusion that being apart was better. Then one of us would get lonely—namely me—, and we’d get back together, in a rinse and repeat cycle of bullshiting each other and ourselves. The difference was that this time we managed to solve several of our problems, and were even living together, with plans to move forward. That is, until I found a pair of boxers that didn’t belong to me laying around. Then she was busy, tired, and distant, and then she told me she had someone else, and we were breaking up.

The weirdest thing is that for the longest time I had been the dating guy in our group of friends. And now, at thirty-three, a lot of my friends and acquaintances are settling down, getting together or moving forward in life in general; whereas me, it seemed like I was not only not progressing but also retroceding. Tina was working the job of her dreams, Danny had bought his own house and was in the process of creating a home, Saul and Angelo were about to marry each other and live happily ever after.

Those thoughts had already been in my head even before things went south with Lily, but despite being happy for them and supporting every step of their way, I couldn’t help but feel nervous. Was I being an idiot for trying to make things work with Lily? I couldn’t even be sad that the one person I had for most of my adult life was no longer going to be a part of my life at all, because deep down I knew she wouldn’t be. Was this me being naïve or just plain stubborn?

Realizing I wouldn’t be able to sleep, I unlocked my phone and searched for a contact that would be online. My eyes went straight to the cartoon penguin profile of Akira’s number, but before I had the chance to even write anything up to her, my phone rang, and I answered panickedly as I made my way outside, carrying a pack of smokes with me to the yard.

“So, how did it go? Do you love Sam or what?” Saul’s excitement was audible. “By the way, you’re on speaker. Tell us  _ everything _ !”

“Who is around?” I had to ask first, and he guffawed as if I’d told a joke. 

“Nobody, you bitch,” Saul said, obviously rolling his eyes on the other side. “Just me and the hubby.”

“Hi, Nick” Angelo’s voice was raspy with sleepiness. “How did it go, girl?”

“It was fun, I guess” I said, and they both sighed. “His sister was there.”

“Aki’s a sweetheart” Angelo said, and I surprised myself with the nickname. “She’s been helping us out a lot with the wedding.”

“Yeah, she’s… she’s really something else,” I was obligated to say, and they both had the same connotation in their pause. I lit up a cigarette.

“You dog”

“Stop! Nothing happened, okay? C’mon, you guys, it’s just that she was there waiting for me, and she looked…”

“Drop-dead gorgeous?” Saul assumed, and I nodded in agreement.

“Totally. She was wearing blue just as you said. She was so talkative, it was very comfortable to talk to her. And she’s really funny, too.”

“Oh my god, you can’t shut up about her! Jesus, keep it in your pants!” Saul squealed like a teenager. “What about Sam?!”

“I don’t know, dude… We mainly talked about how much we have no idea about anything going on at your wedding. Where are you even planning to get married at, anyway?”

“The…” Saul mumbled.

“The what?”

“The History Center” Angelo elucidated.

“It’s dorky but it’s chic, okay?” Saul almost screamed into my ears.

“I’m not judging, you weirdos. Do you have a list of guests, bridesmaids and such?”

“Don’t worry, your crush is already invited,” Saul teased. “We chose her and Christina, so they can enter with our dads.”

“What about Sam and I?” I asked curiously. They both giggled.

“You’re gonna go down the aisle together. Tina and my dad, Aki and Angelo’s dad, you both together and finally us with our moms” Saul explained, and I gulped. “You’ll be fine. Just imagine him in a wig, and hotter.”

“How did he look, Nick?” Angelo asked, trying to defuse the situation his own fiancé was attempting to create.

“He showed up afterwards, he looked tired” I scavenged my mind to try and remember him. “He was kinda… I don’t know. He seems to be in a busy time, right?”

“Yeah, his dad’s been having some health issues and Sam’s going through it. He’s trying to move back to their hometown, but there’s not a lot of options for him to move into…”

“Which means you might be seeing your crush a lot more when that happens” Saul observed, and I unconsciously chuckled. They whispered to each other for a moment, and I sighed as I waited.  “We thought you could have had a chat with Sam about moving and such, you know…”

“Oh, hm…” I hesitated for a second. “Speaking of that… I’m thinking of going home tomorrow”

“Holy shit, you haven’t gone back yet?”

“I couldn’t. I don’t know, maybe it has something to do with her humiliating me in front of her lover there.”

“Woah, cowboy, are we using the big words now?” Angelo’s sarcasm showed. “The problem was that neither of you really brought the best in the other… she brought out the chicken in you and…”

“And I brought out the cheater in her? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Shut up, Angie, let me talk,” Saul protested, taking hold of the phone loudly on the other end. “We’re on your side. She was a cheating dip-shit. So just go there, get your shit together, preferably in big boxes and bags, and you text us should anything happen.”

“I was thinking that if the place’s empty I might just go back to living there on my own…”

“And mope around every single day? You have to be kidding me. If Danny’s sick of your ass we’ll take you in, puppy,” Saul reassured me, and I chuckled weakly at the idiocy of my situation. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure that out later. And, uh…”

“Yeah?”

“If by any chance that asshole is still living there, give her a piece of your mind,  _ puhlease _ . Yell it all out, fight, argue, wrestle. Do whatever but don’t let her have her way, ‘cause I’m here for the drama, but if you hoard any more trauma because of that psycho I just might commit a crime. Good night!” he sang, and hung up.


	4. Pop! Goes the Weasel

That morning I woke up early, strangely full of energy and resolve. Maybe because I’d done so much thinking that eventually I reached a conclusion—but I had slept so little that I might have been hallucinating confidence from sleep deprivation. I quietly got through my morning routine and went grocery shopping as usual, to whip up a nice breakfast for Dan and Jada for when they’d wake up. It was still 7 a.m. and I knew they wouldn’t be up for a while, but I preferred to leave early and give them some space, since I was enough of a bother as it was.

I took some of the cookies I had made with me as I walked back to my old, smelly car, and gave myself a last look on the reflection of the back window. I know I shouldn’t care at that point, but I’m a creature of habit even though it’s pointless. I started the engine and stretched before the drive, in hopes that it would relax my tense shoulders and arms a little. That didn’t help at all.

I realized I couldn’t hope for her to be awake—or at home at all, given the circumstances. Still, when I turned the keys of our apartment and hit the lights, I couldn’t help but search around the place for Lily, quickly discovering it seemed to have been empty for some time. 

The bed was gone, and the electronics, the furniture and the decoration seemed to have all been separated and stuffed in boxes. All my stuff, like clothes and notebooks and whatnot, were all packed messily in boxes and suitcases stacked over the corner closest to the entrance. Many of the things I’d given her were also there, even though there wasn’t a chance in Hell that I would want to keep any of them. 

Over the table, the only piece of the house that remained untouched, there was a horribly handwritten note that left me underwhelmed to say the least.

_So, it’s really over, huh. Please, don’t come looking for me._

_Also, leave your keys over the table, the landlord will bring his next tenant in by the end of next week. I handled the termination._

“What an absolute walnut!” Saul screamed into the phone, so loud I could have heard him even without using a phone. “So what are you going to do?”

“It’s about time I search up a place anyway...”

“Can you believe she said for him not to go looking for her?” I could hear Saul whispering on the other side, probably to Angelo. “Both of you are such candy-asses, my goddess. Anyway, you should just head back to Danny’s with your stuff for now. Don’t make any rash decisions, though.”

“Great advice. Any more obvious things to tell me?” I regretted the tone immediately, but Saul simply laughed at my face.

“Tell him to…” I heard Angelo whisper something, but could not make out anything of what he said.

“Oh, yeah. Our invitation samples are ready. We need you to get them from the calligrapher now. I’ll text you the address.”

“Really? Now?”

“You’re the one who agreed to be our pet, honey. I’ll try to get some rental contacts from Sam tomorrow, though. And Nick?”

“Yes?”

“I told you so, didn’t I?” he said, and I could hear the grin he had on his face. “Ah, I hate to be that girl, but you deserve it. Don’t worry about this stuff right now. Go to the calligrapher, and obviously try to find that tool and yell at her until you feel satisfied.” I could hear Angelo whisper quietly again. “Yeah, ‘talk it out with her’, whatever. Just get your closure, girl, she’s got her head so far up her ass she doesn’t even want to give you that.”

“Thanks, guys.”

"Oh honey. We're sorry. Are you gonna be okay?” he said in his baby voice. “You’ll feel better soon.”

“Highly doubt it,” I said. “Bye, love you both.”

* * *

Despite having lived in Franklin for basically my whole life, I took a long time to find the location of the address Saul had sent me. I roamed around up and down the main street, only to find the store hidden behind thick old glass doors, lower than the street level. The place was called _Simone’s Bookstore & Stationery _, and looked like it came straight out of the seventies. It had that cozy vintage air to it, and the walls surrounding the entrance were covered in healthy, blooming scrambling shrubs.

The entrance of the shop itself was entirely made of glass, making it possible to see a lot of the interior, and the many hundreds of used and new books crammed in the old, stuffed sturdy wooden bookshelves. The counter was also visible, way deep into the shop, near the red-bricked wall in the back that had a hallway to its far left, and there was a woman sitting behind it, flipping through a book absent-mindedly. Eventually she saw me looking in and made a gesture for me to come inside with her free hand.

I climbed down the stairs and took a deep breath, inhaling the delicious smell the shrubs were giving off. From over there, the store already felt cozy and secluded, almost like a secret hideout. I smirked upon seeing the dorky green doorstep that read DEFINITELY NOT A TRAP DOOR, and stepped over it just in case it was telling the truth.

Upon opening the door, the bell sound I imagined it’d make echoed through the big room. The smell was also just like I had expected: coffee, paper and a faint musky smell of second-hand books. It was pretty well-lit with yellowish white lights, and right in front of the cashier there was a little living space, with two big leather couches that faced each other and a little coffee table in between them, over a big colorful rug. The place was actually pretty spacious and charming on the inside. I was curious to see what was beyond the hallway, hidden behind the brick wall, but didn’t dare to go check it.

The woman behind the counter continued to watch me as I observed the place. She looked small and curvy, and had golden locks that fell down her shoulders and spread through the table in front of her. Her deep green eyes were hidden behind thick, fashionable glasses, and her voluminous lips contorted in a polite smile when our eyes met.

“Hi… I’m here for the wedding invitations…” I said.

“Mr. Miller?” the woman presumed, and I had to shake my head, smirking. I could do so much better than Angelo.

“I’m Nick Harper. Maid of honor.”

“Excuse me?”

“I know. Despite having this face I’m still pretty young and innocent. I assume you’re Simone?” I asked, pointing with my thumb to the front of the store behind me.

“Oh, no. I’m just taking care of the store. I’m Cecilia.” she stuck a hand out and I shook it. “We’re actually closed, just waiting for you, but the owner’s out now.”

“Is that so? Am I too late?” I said, and she shook her head and pressed her lips in a condescending smile.

“Yeah, about that… There was a problem with our supplier that just got resolved today, but it won’t be long now, I guess”

She finally stood up and walked around the counter in my direction. She was over a foot smaller than me even though she wore considerably high heels. Before we could even start any conversation, though, the bell rang once more and the door swung open rapidly, letting in a gulf of air from the outside that immediately got transformed by the ambient inside the store.

“Oh my god, Ceci, you’re not gonna believe the…” I heard a familiar voice say, and I turned around just in time to see her stop in her tracks, still holding tightly to the big cardboard box in front of her chest as a surprised, shy smile grew in her lips. “Well, look who’s here. Did Angie get lazy or should I call the police?”

“Hey, they did set me up, but I think calling the police on their asses is a bit much,” I let her know, as I took the box from her hands and deposited it safely over the counter while she followed me. “Maybe just call their parents, it’s more effective.” I added, and they both laughed.

“So, you weren’t kidding when you said you’d be fetching stuff, huh,” Akira gave me gentle pats on the shoulder, and I shook my head. “Poor baby. I’ll try to be done with this as soon as possible, okay? Sorry for the trouble.”

She went behind the counter and grabbed a Stanley knife to cut open the box, as Cecilia tried to pull up the first ream of paper from inside of it. Seeing her struggle, I stepped up and got it out instead, receiving a shy smile in acknowledgement. Akira used the same knife to cut the ream free from the thick twine holding it together.

She used a fancy fine black marker to write the contents of an email she pulled up in her phone. Her slender fingers were quick and precise, and in no time she had produced straight and decorated lines of text that filled the center of the page. She drew circles on the edges with a pencil and used the Stanley knife to cut through the paper carefully, putting them back down behind the counter from where she pulled a bunch of other samples of many different shapes and colors.

She pointed towards the couches and the two of us headed that way, seating comfortably as she spread the models around the coffee table. Cecilia cleared her throat and captured both our attentions, blushing subtly after doing so.

“I think I’m gonna be on my way then,” she announced, grabbing her purse before Akira could protest. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“O-okay! Thanks, Ceci!” Akira exclaimed, as the girl ran out through the door, once more producing the bell sound that this time echoed across the silence between us. She then turned to me. “And there goes my plans for the day.” she gave me another cute smirk. “She was getting along with Angelo so well the other day I thought he’d invite her. He kept joking around and she wouldn’t stop cracking up.”

“It’s a terrible idea to stroke Angelo’s ego.” I advised. “But if you want to I’m pretty sure you can use your bridesmaid powers to sneak Cecilia in.”

“I was thinking she could be my plus-one, but she’s kinda shy for those things, you know,” Akira explained absent-mindedly, while she folded the round edges of the card into something that looked like the shutter of a camera, securing the edges.

“Are you two…?” I had to ask, and she laughed.

“No, we’re both single. And she’s straight,” she explained. “Ceci’s my best friend. She’s been through some _rough_ times with me. So,” she dismissed, focusing on the samples. “These are the models I made for them. I got carried away while doing these, but they’re all very different, so I’m sure it’ll help them make up their minds. Just a heads up: I may or may not have experimented with scented cards, even though it’s impractical… anyway, they’re all distinct papers and fonts, but they can mix and match whichever they find best for the occasion.”

“These ones are pretty good. Is this jasmine?”

“Good nose! I love jasmine and I read somewhere it stimulates intimacy, so…” she said, reaching out at the same time I did, causing our hands to collide gently. Her eyes shot up to my face, and she frowned unexpectedly. “Are you okay?”

“Not really,” I confessed, and she sighed, pushing her knees as she stood up abruptly, inviting me to do the same.

She walked around the counter and quickly found a brown envelope in which she stuffed all the samples, wrapping the top with twine and giving it to me with a sympathetic look. I thought she would send me off just then, but instead she walked to the entrance and turned the shop sign to CLOSED, locking the doors and shutting the blinds before passing by me once more, turning off all the lights. She came back one last time and tugged the sleeve of my shirt invitingly. We walked to the edge of the bricked wall and went through the corridor I had been so curious to see. She held my hand in the darkness as we reached a closed wooden door on the other side.

She pulled a key from the back pocket of her tight jeans with her free hand, revealing behind the door a squared room that looked like a small studio apartment, with a glass door on the back that led to a tiny ghost greenhouse. The entire right wall was covered in shelves filled with books and store clutter, and to the right there was a kitchenette with a coffee machine, a toaster, a microwave, a small sink and a big fridge.

Beyond that busy entrance there was a small desk and chair, that were methodically clean and organized, proving to be one of the things that were actually frequently used in the space. The door to the greenhouse was between that oak desk and a grey soft cloth loveseat couch, that had a wooden coffee table in front of it, a glass end table to its right side and an enormous TV mounted to the wall in front of it. There were two lamps mounted to each side of the device, the one on the left dangerously close to the wall of the bathroom directly behind the kitchenette. The place was cramped and minimalistic, but it felt really homey somehow.

“So… cozy” I managed to say as she pulled the blackout curtains of the door and windows closed. She sighed dramatically.

“Yeah. And to think it fit two beds in here at some point.”

“Your brother?” I assumed, and she shook her head.

“Simone” she said simply, telling me everything I needed to know.

She opened the fridge and offered me a Coke, which I grabbed instinctively, before she threw herself on the couch. There were buckets of popcorn and a plate of sandwiches over the coffee table, and I bit my lower lip as I realized I had actually wrecked their plans for the afternoon by potentially spooking her friend out of here.

“Sorry about that” I was compelled to say, and she chuckled, pretending to frown soon after.

“Yeah… no, I’m very upset,” she said, crossing her arms and pouting cutely. “We were supposed to watch this new indie horror movie that just came out, because I’m a big baby and can’t watch it by myself. You really screwed me.”

“I deeply apologize,” I gave her a slight bow, and she bit back a snort.

“Well, if you insist, you can make it up to me by staying and watching the movie,” she invited me, and smirked when my eyes searched for hers.

Horror movies aren’t generally my thing, but I have to say I really took to that one. Dumb characters, loud sounds, scary monsters and sexy scenes; Cursed Lake House checked all the boxes for a good horror film. We spent the entire afternoon curled up on the sofa pretending not to be scared while yelling at the characters’ stupidity and howling like teenagers whenever something minimally sensual happened on screen. We made predictions—or rather, _bets_ —over who’d be dying and how ridiculous their deaths would be, but we lost track of our tally somewhere along the way, when the protagonist’s boyfriend was ripped in half horribly by a demon monster.

“This is the good stuff right there,” she said, and cackled when I stared at her in disbelief. “I’m just saying! It’s amazing that something this hilarious can be so scary when we’re watching it by ourselves, isn’t it?” I saw myself agreeing, and she bumped her shoulder against mine and shot me a mysterious glance. “Thanks for being a good sport, by the way.”

“The pleasure was all mine, trust me,” I assured her. “I feel sorry for your friend for having missed such fun, though.”

“She fucking hates movies like this. Did you see how fast she ditched me for a quiet, horror-free afternoon?”

“Well, if the movies you enjoy are in this level of scariness, I don’t see the big deal,” I said with my cursed mouth.

Before I could even finish saying it, the poltergeist in the movie tossed the bed across the room, producing a loud bang that made us both jump. She shrunk her shoulders and pressed herself against me, as I used my arm to protect the back of her head of absolutely no real threat at all. After one second we were both back in place and embarrassed as hell.

I wish I could say that movie redeemed itself in the end despite all odds and managed to scare us both out of our minds and surprise us like no blockbuster has ever done before, but the truth is that I barely even paid any attention to the screen towards the final moments, since I was busy watching her reactions instead. As the climax approached she inched toward the big screen and buried her chin on the bases of her palm in a pose very similar to the one she did in the V.I.P., her eyes wide in anticipation and her brows furrowed as if she herself were a part of the plot.

Every now and then she’d let one of her fingers slide between her lips, as she distractedly nibbled on the shortly-trimmed naked nails. The corners of her mouth turned upwards as the protagonist was surprised by a melodramatic love declaration from beyond the grave of her previously mangled boyfriend.

She worried at her bottom lip as she braced herself for one last scare, and as it came, she leaned back and right towards me while covering her face, leaving only her eyes out. I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, returning my attention to the screen just in time to watch the tension building in that dark, long corridor, a few moments before a chair flew across the screen towards the camera. We both flinched and stiffened, and sighed in relief as the credits rolled.

“Wow, I never imagined someone could make ‘Pop Goes the Weasel’ scary, but here we are,” I said, following her back to the kitchenette with one of the two now empty buckets of popcorn.

“Yeah, I’ll be hearing that little fucker sing that just before drifting off,” she pouted. “Children are the worst.”

“This movie was really fun, though,” I said, and it wasn’t technically a lie. I mean, the plot itself wasn’t half as entertaining as her reactions to it, but still. She grinned.

“Yeah, especially after a certain someone mocked the un-scariness of this masterpiece.” she turned to me with a puzzled expression. “Would you mind if we had a smoke break?”

“I’d love to.”

She opened the back door and signed for me to go out into the greenhouse first. The same wooden floor extended to this part, making it as cozy as it felt inside; there was a round 2-seater rattan wicker sofa, a glass end table with an ashtray on top and a potting bench supporting empty vases. Suspended over us there were six fern pots that looked extremely healthy. She placed the ashtray between us as she sat down, and offered me a cigarette while putting one in her own mouth.

“I’m not supposed to have these, and I mostly don’t, but sometimes it’s just…”

“Inevitable?” I said, and she nodded, almost dropping from her mouth the stick she tried to light with her black lighter. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“Birds of a feather, right? I’m Tracey and you’re Sharon.” she joked, and it was my turn to almost drop my cigarette as I lit it. Such a specific joke.

“Thanks for today, by the way,” I had to say, and she quickly dismissed it with a shake of head, blowing a raspberry.

“Don’t mention it, I also needed the distraction,” she assured me, touching my arm gently. “But if you want to talk, I’m all ears.”

“Nah, it’s a long, boring story. It ended way before it even started, but it still sucked to go and pick up the pieces.”

“Well, I’m afraid I can’t do much to help in that department, but if you’re ever down and out with the blues you can come over and I’m sure you’ll have a good time, y’know…”

“Did you just paraphrase Village People or am I tripping?” I had to ask, and we both burst into laughter as she nodded. “I’ll have you know I’m well versed as the token straight guy, okay?” I feigned offense. “Here I was pouring my heart out…”

“Sorry, I just had to!” she raised her hands in resignation, still chuckling. “Your face was so serious as I was talking…” she leaned closer. “It was very cute, actually. I just had to tease you.”

“Don’t tease me, I might get attached” I said, in a much lower voice than expected. Her side smile looked hopeful as I leaned closer.

As we approached each other we exchanged a cowardly meaningful look, and she nodded and backed away, standing up and smacking her lips, both realizing the precarious situation we were in and saving it just in time. The same wry smile stamped across our lonely mouths as we put our cigarettes out on the ashtray, while I’d tell myself that this hadn’t been the time or the place, for neither of us.

“I should… get going.” I said then, standing up as well. “Thanks for today, really.”

“Always a pleasure,” she said, putting her hands on the front pockets of her jeans. “I’ll see you out. Not because I’m scared, of course.”

“Watch out for popping weasels” I advised, and she laughed.

“You’re the poppiest weasel I’ve seen yet.”


	5. Great Expectations

“God damn, dude. I’m never trusting him with a hammer again!” Danny said in a joking tone as he gave me shoulder pats. Everybody sitting with us laughed and chuckled at my misfortune from earlier, when I hammered down my thumb into a swollen mess filled with blood blisters under the fingernail. I seriously considered just sliding right off that chair and under the table.

Looking around the environment, it was almost impossible to recognize it as Dan’s backyard. Everything was beautifully decorated with string lights and candles, the pool was crystal clear, and even the table centerpieces were completely to Saul and Angelo’s taste, as if they had prepared them themselves. And yet, just a few hours before the stunning sunset that unraveled right as the party started, Daniel and I were running like crazy while Jada bossed us around and yelled at the rental people over the telephone. Now she sat between her boyfriend and Saul, completely recovered from the stress of the day, drinking and laughing as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

There were only about five or six tables in total, since Angelo insisted on having just a small, casual celebration, and only their closest friends and family had been invited. In the table farthest away from ours, surprisingly, his and Saul’s parents were sitting and chatting comfortably, sometimes shooting glances in our direction and playing meekly with the grooms sitting at our table.

“Nice that your old man could make it,” I said to Angelo as everybody at the table talked distractedly. He gave me a nod.

“Yeah, we’re back to getting along.”

“How did he take it? He was always so vocal about you being gay and all…”

“He changed his mind the minute I told him who I’d be marrying,” he said with a silly smile, and turned his head to kiss Saul’s cheek. “Now he’s like ‘my boys this’ and ‘my boys that’, but it’s… it’s nice.” he said, and I gave him pats in the back upon noticing there was a hint of a tear forming in his right eye.

Angelo looked around once more trying to distract himself from crying, still bothered by the two empty seats at our table. “They’re probably on their way,” I tried to reassure him, and he bobbed his head suspiciously.

“Okay, we’re taking some pictures at that cute booth over there, Nikolaj. I’m being serious,” Saul leaned over Angelo to tell me, and when I rolled my eyes he pulled at one of my dreads to give me a look. “You’re the bridesmaid! It’s your legal obligation! Move your ass!” he slurred.

“Too much champagne?” I guessed, and he assented with a grin. Just in time, we heard the doorbell ring on the other side of the property. “Thank god. I’ll be right back,” I announced, jumping up and jogging to the door rather rapidly.

Sam’s toast was supposed to have happened at six thirty, but the twins arrived at seven fifty eight. Sam looked flushed and nervous, and it was obvious that he didn’t even have time to change. His sister, on the other hand, was an elegant beauty trying her best to conceal her fury behind her perfect makeup. We exchanged a quick look that let me know the reason behind their tardiness hadn’t been on her, but with Sam being a nurse and all it was expected that he wouldn’t necessarily be the first one to arrive at a Friday evening event.

“Sorry, man. Everything going alright in there?” he asked before fully going through the entrance door, giving me a quick hug.

“Yeah, you’re right on time.” I assured him, gently patting his shoulder as we made our way to the back.

He laughed shyly, and both siblings gasped as we reached the backyard. The sparkle in their eyes was identical as they observed the food and drinks table, the improvised dance area on their freshly-cut lawn, the big mountable wooden tables surrounded by comfy chairs and the twenty-something people that had gathered around, chatting and socializing smoothly.

Tina and Patrick were the first ones to welcome the twins, and I surprised myself when Pat and Sam greeted each other with a peck on the lips. Tina simply locked arms with Aki and dragged her back into the house without even letting her meet anybody else, or exchanging more than a meek “hi” with me. I guided Sam and Pat to the main table and Saul’s deathly glare immediately softened when he also realized the best man had come straight from work.

The toasts were quick and painless, and before we knew it, we were already at the last one. Sam talked about the—brief—history and adventures he’d had with the couple; I talked about the wonders of being a maid of honor and how Saul and Angelo were such great friends and perfect for each other; Saul’s dad almost drowned everybody in our own tears by talking about his two little boys’ next chapter and how excited he was to be able to be a part of it. The cutest one, though, had come from the most unexpected corner: Angelo thanked his parents-in-law and his own, all of the friends and relatives that had come to celebrate them despite such rapid development of things, and finally his future spouse, from whom he could barely take his eyes off of during that whole time.

“I won’t thank you for these wonderful past months, or for finally having the balls to give me an ultimatum that took our relationship to the next level,” he said, and Saul chuckled embarrassedly. “I want to thank you for the last twenty-five years of our lives, and for showing me how wonderful life can be. Thank you for being my best friend—sorry, Nick—, and for choosing me to be right here with you now. I’d say that I can’t wait for the beginning of the rest of our lives, but our life together began a long time ago, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. To Saul, love of my life, in all shapes and sizes. I love you so much.”

They kissed and everybody clapped and toasted, and the air around us felt so light and so good it really showed how powerful their love was. Cheesy, I know.

“Very good speech, weasel.” I heard a familiar voice say behind me when the conversation trailed off in our circle. I turned to see those same voracious eyes and a cute, professional smile greeting me. I couldn’t help but feel shy in that situation, especially since she looked so stunning, and I cleared my throat at least two or three times before even thinking of saying anything.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, and she chuckled.

“Oh! So you’re beyond a first-name basis now, huh?” Saul was quick to notice, with a wicked smile stamped on his face. “By the way, Nick, isn’t Aki looking gorgeous today?”

She wore a short grey cocktail dress that was off-the-shoulder and backless, and the tiniest heels on a chic black satin sandal. The front of the dress ended just a little under the middle of her thigh even though it was longer on the back part. The crossed straps on the back highlighted her ballerina posture, and the shape of the gown itself looked like it had been made solely to compliment her features, from the tone of her skin to the curves of her body. I swallowed.

“Yes,” I sounded more serious than I meant to, but luckily I recovered fast with a mischievous smirk. “If I were Nietzsche I’d say you’re beyond good and weasel.”

“Holy shit, I’m leaving this dork conversation,” Saul pretended to leave, while I basked in the glory of having made her laugh. “I’ll go fetch a drink, can I get you anything?”

“I’m fine, thanks.” Aki guaranteed, gently touching his shoulder.

“Can you fill this for me?” I asked, and he ignored me and left.

By eleven thirty six in the night, all of the guests were long gone and the only people remaining were us, the usual group, drunkenly fooling around as we used to do when we were much younger and irresponsibly inconsequent. Or, actually, the usual group and three newcomers. The nine of us were now sitting in Dan's living room, surrounded by the remains of the drinks from the bar outside in an attempt to consume all of the leftovers. Most of them were pissed at the fact that I was the one who had drunk the least since we first sat down.

“But I’ve never woken up drunk! That’s prejudice!” Saul slurred, refusing his shot. At this point he had drunk for over half of the evening, but luckily his fiancé knew his own limits and also Saul’s, and drank his partner’s shot easily. Sam laughed.

“You’ll be experiencing that tomorrow, then.”

“Okay, my turn!” Tina said, with a grin. “Never have I ever… faked an orgasm!”

We looked around for a moment, and three people reached out for shots. Jada, Pat and Akira.

“Never with you, babe, I swear!” Jada justified herself to Dan just after gulping down the booze in her glass.

“How can you even fake an orgasm, Mary?” Angelo asked Pat, who gave him a shy smirk.

“Oh, the ignorant bliss of being a top…” he said simply, provoking laughs all around. “Never have I ever given a lap dance.”

“Now we’re just flat-out lying,” Saul pointed out, and Pat tossed a buttery shrimp at him. Out of everybody, just Pat, Angelo and I didn’t drink, surprisingly.

“Aki? Your turn.”

“Never have I ever… crashed a car.” she said in a hesitant tone.

“Nope, I refuse that one!” Saul yelled. “We were just going down a nice road, c’mon… Do your worst!”

“Do you mean a sexy one?” she asked, and everybody howled. “Okay, hmm…”

“I don’t wanna hear about that!” Sam complained, and I gave him sympathetic pats on the knee.

“Never have I ever been caught or seen masturbating,” she said, and eight shots were taken.

“That can always change…” Tina winked at Aki, who blushed and giggled.

“My turn,” Saul announced, beaming playfully. “Never have I ever thought someone among us looked like total eye-candy tonight”

“Ouch,” Angelo exclaimed as we cackled, and Saul buried his face in his hands.

“I’ll drink too, so stop being a party pooper!”

Nine shots were had, and as we friskily joked around with possibilities and with Saul’s drunkenness, we emptied out all of the bottles and ate all the appetizers.

I only realized we all had passed out when I woke up to a dark mess of a living room, and all of us spread around, having drifted off wherever we had managed to crash. Dan slept on the sofa all curled up and crooked. I had been lucky enough to sleep on the same fluffy black rug that I had been sitting on for most of the night. Using my thighs as a pillow, Akira rested her head, frowning and pouting as she dreamed away. I experimented running my fingers through her hair and she moaned lazily before blinking her eyes open. We stared at each other for a second that stretched over several others. She gave me a weak smile that irradiated to my lips.

“Hi,” she whispered embarrassedly.

“Hi. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. What time is it?”

“Three, maybe four? No idea,” I confessed, chuckling, and she gripped my pants with her fingers, making us both realize the hand she had under her head was nearing my inner thigh.

“Sorry, I’ll get up,” she said, but I slid my hand to her shoulder.

“It’s fine.”

She sat down facing me and stretched, and we chuckled at the cracks her back and shoulders made. She placed her forehead against my right shoulder and inhaled profusely, while I tried to tie the loose strings of her dress, unsuccessfully.

“Sorry, I’m still drunk,” I said, and she snorted, nodding.

“Me too. Damned tequila shots.”

She reached back and tied her dress back up herself, and the delicious perfume she wore was still present and exhaled as she moved. She inched closer when I started stroking her back, bringing her hands back to her lap.

“Just thinking about them is making me want to barf.” I looked out into the sliding doors to the still dark backyard. “I should go for some air…”

“I’ll go with you.” she said, defeating the purpose of me leaving to cool off.  _ Maybe the weather will help _ , I thought, as we stood up.

We fumbled around in the darkness, careful to not step on anyone or anything while I led her by the hand back outside, after grabbing some water bottles from the not-so-cooled cooler. I opened and closed the door quietly and we walked over to one of the tables, not needing much but a quick exchange of naughty looks to remove our shoes, sit on the edge of the pool and dip our feet in the warm water.

Despite it being late Spring already, the nights were still pretty chilly, but the hot vapor coming directly in our direction made her cheeks pinkish after some time. I tried my best but not even the whole bottle of water was capable of releasing the hesitating knot in my throat. She gulped down half of her bottle and glanced at me.

“How angry would your friend be if one of us accidentally fell on the pool?” she suddenly asked with a wicked smile on her still red lips, and I swallowed.

“Pretty?” I guessed. “I mean, probably not at you, because you’re so cute you could probably get away with anything, but he adopted me when I became homeless, so I have to behave, y’know…”

“Wow! So you’re that drunk, huh?” she chuckled, but became serious when she noticed I was, too. “Wait, what? Homeless? What happened?”

“It’s, uh… complicated.”

“Oh, the complications of the other day, huh?” she guessed correctly.

“He’s been having me for a lot longer than just the couple of weeks after that, though. I’m still trying to figure that out, but with the engagement party and work and all, I just can’t seem to catch a break.”

“I feel you,” she said, placing a hand on my knee. “But ‘we need never be ashamed of our tears’, right?” she said, and I found it ironic that she’d quote  _ Great Expectations _ , of all things. My thing with Lily was condemned from the start precisely because our expectations were not realistic. 

“I can't even be sad, though. I guess I kind of knew it was happening; or rather, instead of seeing it coming, I guess I made it come.”

“That doesn’t make it any less sad, Nick.”

“Doesn’t it? I can’t even tell anymore.” I shrugged. “Well, long story short, now I am single, homeless and busy like I haven’t been in over ten years.”

“Well, I don’t know about the rest, but at least one of those things I could help you with,” she said suggestively, inching closer. I leaned in, only to be splashed with water to the side of my face as she smirked menacingly. “I’m talking about being homeless, of course.”

“Of course you are,” I wiped my cheek with the sleeve of my shirt. “Your brother already gave me some contacts but these things take some time, you know…”

“Well, I think he failed to realize that his own apartment is gonna have a room. He moved out in a hurry, but I’ll stay until the end of the lease so we don’t have to pay the cancellation thingies. I was actually concerned because I have no means to rent that place on my own, but if you come be my roomie we could both benefit from it,” she explained, and in my groggy, drunk brain, all I wanted was to jump around. I almost started searching for the hidden cameras, until I realized her brain was probably woozy as well.

“But wouldn’t you mind, y’know… the fact that I’m… and you’re…” I pointed at us clumsily, in an attempt to be subtle. She snorted.

“I think I could take you on, champ. Don’t get me wrong, I think you’re the sweetest weasel, but don’t try any funny business because I’ll be merciless.”

“What if I turn out to be a dangerous weasel?” I asked, daringly taking her wet hand in mine and coming a bit closer to her.

I couldn’t let the moment of taking revenge for the face splash pass me by, so I attempted to tug her into the pool, but what ended up happening was that she not only easily escaped from my surprise attack, she pushed me in instead, and I landed belly-first into the warm, wet waters with my clothes, socks and dreadlocks, thanking all gods above for not having my phone in my pocket.

I surfaced pretending to be fuming, and she had the most innocent look on her face that almost made me believe for a second that I had indeed fallen into the pool by a simple accident, or a drunken mistake. Her expression rapidly turned evil, though, and I frowned and pouted in lack of better alternatives.

“Splash went the weasel,” she joked, giggling and squealing when I started splashing her back.

“Oh you’re in big trouble right now, young lady!” I whisper-screamed to her.

She did her best to conceal her maniacal cackles as I approached her slowly, and fished me back to the edge with her feet, holding me between her legs while my pretend-anger diluted and dissolved. With the inertia of the movement and lack of resistance, floating to her was almost inevitable, and yet putting my arms around her waist felt like a choice nevertheless.

“So, you’re still minding that I’m a… and you’re a…?” she asked. “Because I think you’ve realized by now that you’re gonna be the one in trouble, right?” she bent forward and rested her forearms on my shoulders.

“Yeah, I think you may be right,” I confessed, watching her smile warp from playful to alluring. I gulped, and pushed myself away from the temptation in front of me, gently tugging her off the edge and chuckling when she screeched fearfully.

* * *

When the morning finally came, I woke up in my borrowed bed with absolutely no recollection of ever getting there. In fact, I remembered hardly anything after pulling her into the pool, which might as well have meant that I died not soon after. That wasn’t a bad way to die at all, except I hadn’t really. With my eyes still closed, I felt that I had a clean, dry t-shirt on, and my pajama pants as well. My hair still felt pretty disgusting, but at least my head had been wrapped in a towel properly.

I opened my eyes to discover that by my side, with her back turned to me and wrapped in all of my blankets, Akira used my arm as a pillow. She had the long-sleeved top of my pajamas on loosely; out of curiosity, I peeked under the blankets and found my silky Spiderman boxer shorts, and felt immediately embarrassed for past me.

Akira’s hand was gripping me rather tightly, and the gentle blows of her breath against the hairs of my forearm felt so comfortable, so I just laid there. Her hair was also wrapped in a towel, but because it was chin-length and flowy it probably had long dried. I attempted to remove it from her head carefully, but she nudged her nose against my arm and groaned in protest.

“Stop, Simon…” she mumbled. Ouch.

“Hm, Simon can’t come to the phone now,” I said, and she startled herself awake, still not turning around, but releasing my trapped arm from underneath her.

“Sorry… it’s been a long time since I slept this well, I just…”

“It’s okay,” I guaranteed, caressing her naked shoulder.

I laid on my side and supported my head on my closed fist, which allowed me to observe her complex expression. Her scar, differently from what I had previously thought, started inside her ear, or at least ended there. It was still reddish and a little bumpy, but almost unnoticeable unless in a distance like the one we were at then.

“You’re a great cuddle buddy,” she said then, turning around to face me. She immediately regretted the decision when the tiny open gap in the blackout curtains shone brightly against her eyes, reflecting a beautiful hazel color. Her frowning face right after is what made me smile instead.

“I’ll cover for you,” I raised the covers above our heads, leaving the top open for some air and light. “Are you hungover?”

“You have no idea,” she snorted. “Don’t even remember what happened last night after the shower…”

“Shower? You took a shower?”

“ _ We _ took a shower, dummy. You insisted on me ‘taking responsibility’ and washing your hair.” I grunted and hid my face in my hands. Can I not be normal even when I’m drunk? She chuckled. “Also, you’re buff. Not that you don’t look, obviously. I just didn’t think you’d be able to carry me over your shoulders and down the hall.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry…”

“Relax, it’s cool. It’s nothing compared to when you tossed me into the pool, remember that?” she inquired, pouting, and I finally nodded.

“That’s about the only thing I remember, unfortunately for you. If I were a stingy guy I’d probably hold you up to what you said, but…”

“I was being serious, you know…” she said, with a side smile. “I mean, maybe you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” her sarcastic tone was adorable, “I know I’m offering half an apartment with a messy, insomniac roommate from hell, but if you think about it, it’s actually pretty neat, right? I live downtown, so it’s near everything, the rooms are private so you won’t even need to see me, but I’ll be around if you want company, and you’ll get to pay rent and bills again. What do you say?”


	6. Roomies

“So, do you think she’ll like this one?” Margot raised a heart pillow, jokingly. I rolled my eyes and sighed as I threw it back in the basket it came from.

We still had a little energy left in us even after such a busy work day, but roaming around the mall looking for good bed linen and toiletries on sale was neither of our ideal choices. Still, Margot accepted my invitation to come along with no complaints, and we used the time to distract ourselves by updating each other on the current events of our own lives. It had been a while since I had that much to talk about myself.

“Do you think I made a mistake? This sounds rushed, right?”

“You’re such a pessimist, Jesus Christ!” She said, rolling her eyes and fluffing the pillow beside her. “What did the others say about this?”

For the longest time, most of the friends and acquaintances I’ve ever had were either from my parents’ or Saul and Angelo’s circles, and for a great portion of my adolescence and early adulthood, I thought it would always be that way. Once I graduated college and finally entered society, that possibility kept hovering over my head, but somehow I managed to find some keepers.

One of my biggest proofs of that was Margot, and her stubborn persistence in actually seeing something worth of her friendship in me. We met during my first week in the previous company we worked at, and were colleagues for a couple years before an apocalyptic mass dismissal from which I was the first victim. Months later, we found each other again in the same team of a new firm.

Every day we’d search for new places to have lunch at, and on the busy days we’d bring packed lunches for the both of us. She saw the rise and the downfall of the Lily Age, and I watched as she fought through her awful divorce with her asshat of an ex-husband. She was the mother of the two cutest kids on the planet, and always gave amazing advice.

To me, she’s that one person I could tell things unedited, from my experience straight to her ears. She’d have inputs and opinions that could shed light on issues I’d be mulling over for days, shooting in the dark.

“I only told Daniel so far…” I said, and she threw her head back in a laugh.

“Nick, it’s been three weeks… you’re moving in on Sunday, aren’t you?”

I inhaled and tried to argue, but there were no arguments in my mouth, so I closed it again. She tilted her head with a “see?” expression, and sighed. We went over to the duvet aisle, and she gave me pats on the back encouragingly.

Daniel and Jada stopped in their tracks immediately when I told them last week, over dinner, that I had decided to move in with Akira. Before the big talk with them, I couldn’t help but feel extremely relieved, believing they’d be happy to finally have their home back to themselves. As the conversation happened, though, I couldn’t help but see the hint of disappointment in Dan’s voice and expression. My heart sank a little.

“Do you think I should have discussed it with Saul or Angelo? Sam might find it weird, right? All of a sudden going to live with his sister, even though we’ve known each other for such a short while…”

“You do realize that that’s a part of being ‘roommates’, right?” Her tone of voice and intonation was the same she used to talk to her daughters. “Look, if you don’t want to go, just say you don’t want to go! Stop frying your brain trying to think of logical excuses. But if you’re actually excited to go and only scared of the consequences or whatever, I’d tell you to pick your struggles. Because you’re between possible disappointment and certain regret. Which one do you think is worse?”

The worst thing about Margot—and the best, as well—was that she was great at making points. She was much better at putting things into perspective in someone else’s life than her own, though, but I guess it’s difficult for everybody to see their own narratives through fresh eyes without a little help.

“You’re excited to go, aren’t you?” she observed correctly, and I couldn’t help but smile. “So what is the problem?”

That question caught me so off guard that words slipped through my fingers. I changed the subject and Maggie gently indulged me, as we navigated through the sea of blankets and pillowcases. As a treat for helping me out, I took her to a Brazilian steakhouse and we almost passed out from eating so much. Maggie smuggled out a few portions of cheese bread for her kids, and some for the drive home, despite our stomachs being close to exploding.

As we made our way through the parking lot, though, my cell phone started ringing, and I raised an eyebrow upon seeing the caller’s ID. Maggie went away for a quick smoke to give me privacy, and I paced around behind the car for a few seconds before finally picking up.

“How can I help?” I answered, and the voice on the other side chuckled.

“Straight to the point, huh?” he pointed out. “I like that. Can you talk?”

“Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“Sorry for calling so late, I promise I’ll be quick. I’m working the night shift too, this is the only break I’ve had today.” He paused. “Akira told me about the moving… uh, pretty soon now, right?” His hesitancy didn’t help giving me any hints as to what he could be feeling or thinking.

“Are you mad?” I guessed, and he chortled meekly.

“If anything, I’d say I’m _concerned_?” More silence. “But honestly, it’s a bit of a relief that she won’t be having to move out as well, and I’m sure you’ll get along just fine.”

“So, what’s the concern?” I had to ask, and he sighed a couple of times, and I could almost hear the gears turning in his head whilst he tried to find the most adequate set of words to continue the conversation.

“I don’t know… just make a mental note of the things I’ll tell you, okay?”

“Okay…?”

“Eat out as much as you can. If you’re ever in doubt, there’s an amazing Chinese restaurant nearby that’s pretty cheap.” He paused, as if waiting for me to actually take notes. “Also, make sure she’s always eating and sleeping properly, and just in case never let her drink coffee past six, or else she’ll be up for days—and so will you. She might hide away in the shop if she gets too busy or if by any chance you two fight, either way you can always just call me, I know how to handle her. She’ll never try reconciliation, unless she’s in the wrong—which she rarely is, to be honest.”

“Sounds like you two are super close. I’m kinda jealous” I confessed, and he laughed sincerely for the first time during that call.

“It’s just the perks of having siblings. Oh! And Nick?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t fall in love with her. You’ll definitely regret it.”

“Is that a threat?” I asked daringly.

“It's advice.” He cleared his throat. “I gotta go. Sorry for… you know… Thanks for listening.”

After being left with such words to mull over, Sunday morning came much quicker than I could have imagined, but by that point most of my stuff had already been living in my new room for much longer than me. All of the furniture I bought had been delivered straight to the apartment, and I moved most of the boxes and suitcases throughout the weeks, so the only thing that I had yet to bring with me was a small package of the clothes I had used recently and personal everyday appliances, like my laptop, alarm clock and such. And yet, I still woke up earlier than usual and anxiously waited for ten o’clock as I prepared one last breakfast for Jada and Dan.

The goodbye had been much worse for the two of them, even though we would probably continue to hang out a shit ton as usual even after I moved out. I drove around to the path I had gotten used to, always pleasantly surprised to have a spot on the parking lot waiting for me. I used the keycode to get through the door to the elevators and balanced cardboard boxes as we jiggled upwards to the thirteenth floor. I rang the doorbell to the apartment 616 and the green door immediately cracked open to reveal Akira’s smiling face greeting me.

“Hey, stranger,” she said, poking her nose out but keeping her shoulders in. “What’s the secret password?”

“Don’t be a weasel, just let me in?” I attempted, and she snorted.

“Fine. There’s a surprise for you, though,” she announced, swinging the door open finally to reveal Dan, Jada, Angelo and Saul waiting for me, the latter sitting by his magnificent tool box that he had mounted throughout the years.

“Did you really think we’d miss the Ikea party?” Saul cracked a joke, moving his eyebrows up and down comically.

“How the fuck did you get here so fast?” I asked the couple whom I had _clearly_ left behind with a great advantage. Dan pointed his thumb at Jada, who rolled her eyes. “Thanks guys.”

“Aki promised us free booze, so we had no other choice,” Angelo shrugged.

“Despite someone being extremely rude as to not even warn us about this whole thing until very recently,” Saul added, pouting in censorship.

“Nevermind that, we have an entire wardrobe, a bed, a desk and a whole lot of other shit to mount before Nick officially moves in, so we have to hurry up, otherwise someone will be spending their first night in on the sofa.”

“But first, brunch,” Saul announced, pointing towards the table loaded with food.

* * *

The apartment in itself had a very cozy atmosphere that stunned me from the first time I stepped foot into it, despite the open floor and the high ceiling. The walls and floor were light and covered in art, posters and string lights, and plants were spreaded across the entire place, all very well taken care of.

The green wooden door led to the center of the main living space. To the left, there was an open kitchen that was brightly lit by the gigantic windows in front of the sink, as the counters surrounded all three walls, being stopped by a back door on one side and by the stove on the other. In the middle of it there was a shy island with two barstools that didn’t really match each other or the environment around them, but from first glance I could tell which one belonged to which sibling.

Directly in front of the door there was a big wooden table surrounded by six chairs. Most of them were packed with books on their seatings, but the table was strangely clean and organized most of the time. Behind it there was a narrow, dark corridor that led to three closed white doors, the furthest one now my bedroom. There was a beautiful antique chandelier hanging from the ceiling directly over the table, and matched the floor lamps that were the main source of light in the last part of the room.

The biggest part was the living room, which had a spacious velvet grey couch that could seat three or four people comfortably. The stoney tone of the sofa complemented nicely with the navy blue of the armchairs and with the oak coffee table. The wall where the TV was mounted was covered in shelves filled with books and DVDs, and abandoned on the side there was a beautiful Gibson guitar sitting on a precarious black stand.

* * *

Akira rapidly and efficiently put everybody to work right after eating, and by the time the sun had set, we had finished building almost all of the furniture and arranged the room into a proper bedroom. Of course, except for Jada and Saul, we all had also become quite drunk in the process. Somehow, the bedroom that so far seemed too spacious and weirdly cluttered had transformed into this homey environment, and the only thing missing was the wooden nightstand on the side of the bed that wasn’t up against the wall.

We only realised the nightstand had been left behind after everybody had already gone home, and although I tried my best to persuade Akira towards us not putting it together so late in the night, when both of us were still quite tipsy and would for sure be noisy as hell, she was adamant about me having the “perfect” first night, and in her mind that involved the aforementioned nightstand.

“Is this Greek?” Akira exclaimed, turning the manual around in her hands but somehow not managing to make it make sense. “What the shit?”

“We should just wing it,” I brilliantly suggested, and she blew raspberries. “How hard can this be?”

“Very hard, I imagine. Impossible, in fact,” she said, and I raised an eyebrow. “So, to make things more interesting, we should play a game while we’re at it.”

“A game?” I repeated, immediately interested.

“Every time one of us curses, we strip.” she proposed, and my eyes shot up from the manual in hieroglyphics straight to her face, just in time to catch a glimpse of the most malicious smile I’ve ever seen in anyone’s face. She cleared her throat. “I mean, _we sip._ ” She corrected herself, dangling her bottle in front of us and giving me another taste of her smirk.

“Looks like I’ll be spending my first night at the hospital, then.”

“Ooh, are you chickening out?” she teased.

“Never.”

We tossed the manual away and sat down in front of each other with the closed box between us. Once again we cluttered the entire room with the stuff from inside it, separating bits and pieces, bolts, screws and nails. Lucky for us, she had all the tools necessary to complete our task, except for a hammer, and instead we used a rolling pin she had stored away in the kitchen. In retrospect, that wasn’t the best idea—and we probably wouldn’t have had it if we were sober at the time—, but it had been working great for almost the entirety of the assembly, except for when she ended up hitting her own fingers with such strength that even I felt the pang.

“Motherfucker!” she yelled as she agonized on the floor, and I immediately went around the thing to her rescue. We both had tears in our eyes, and she sucked her thumb, all red and swollen.

“Shh, come here. Give me your hand,” I asked, and she hesitantly complied. 

We quickly wobbled to the bathroom and I opened the faucet of the sink, dipping our hands under the cold water while her unaffected hand gripped me tightly. She sighed in relief soon after, and we exchanged a quick look before I turned my attention to her index finger, that bled from one of the edges of her fingernail, but that one didn’t seem to bother her as much.

“Better?” I asked, and she nodded.

“Very quick thinking, you saved my life.” she joked, with a shy smile. “I think the pain sobered me up.”

“And the scare sobered _me_ up,” I nudged her slightly.

“Really? Sorry… I killed your buzz…” she apologized, slowly resting her head on my shoulder.

“No, don’t worry. I’m usually the one getting hurt, being on this side is new to me.”

“Your clumsiness must have rubbed off on me.” She chuckled, and I nudged her again. She muttered something in a low voice, and I let out a sound of incomprehension. She shook her head and dropped the conversation, as we both silently watched the water run over our fingers. Eventually we realized our proximity, and stepped away from each other, closing the faucet. She dried her hand on her pants quickly, her eyes darting around everywhere while mine stared right at her.

“We should finish the death nightstand,” she proposed then, raising her shoulders. “You know, before it finishes _us_.” Akira completed ominously, provoking a laugh from my side.

The rest of the assembly was uneventful, but even after finishing the cursed thing we remained there, sitting on the floor, still too awkward to decide on leaving or not. So we just continued to drink quietly as she proceeded to help me organize stuff into the wardrobe and chest of drawers, blushing subtly when she found my box of underwear. After that she decided to move onto the books and other knick knacks that I’d leave near the cursed nightstand, and as a result from then on we had our backs to each other.

“So, do you think you’ll stop running away now?” she asked all of a sudden, and I lingered in confusion for a moment before voicing it. “You’ve been living in Daniel’s guest room for a while, haven’t you?”

“I’m not actually running away,” I tried to argue, but her silence told me she didn’t buy it. “I, uh… retreated.”

“Were you defeated?” Her hands continued to be busy while mine had been still for a while.

“Surprisingly, yeah.” I admitted, and she hummed in understanding, giving me time to realize half my clothes were still to be unpacked.

“How long was your battle?” she insisted.

“Six years, on and off. But things really started going south around last year, and then I became homeless,” I joked, but only I laughed.

When I glanced over my shoulder to check if she was making any weird faces at me, I caught her staring at one of my mom’s old books, her eyes glittering and a tiny smile forming on the corner of her mouth. I wobbled my way toward her, but before I reached anywhere near her, Akira put the book away and turned to me with distant eyes that seemed to see way beyond where I was standing.

“Now you’re not homeless anymore,” she pointed out. “Just lost.”

“Hm… yeah, I guess so.” I had to agree, sighing.

“Sorry, this is not a topic for a happy day like this,” she waved her hand as if trying to clear the air physically. “Enjoy your Smörgåsbord… nightstand-thingy.”

“Hmm, I’m pretty sure Smörgåsbord is an eating thing…”

“Of course it is. Okay, then,” she started backing away toward the door. “You know where the bathroom is… if by any chance someone left a monster under your bed, I’ll be just down the hallway.”

“Thanks for today.” I said embarrassedly, and she shook her head with a meek smile.

“You too. Good night.”

She quickly closed the door behind her, and I swear I could almost hear her running back to her room for some reason. I looked at the books she had put inside the nightstand, but I couldn’t really recognize which one of them could have been responsible for triggering this kind of response. Then again, I was forced to remember once more that, after all, she was still a stranger, one that I’d definitely regret falling in love with, according to her own brother. And, despite her best efforts to make the first night as roommates perfect for me, I just couldn’t bring myself to sleep that night, and kept rolling around the brand new mattress, kicking the comforter Margot had picked out of the bed.


	7. A Twin Thing

That first night, when I finally managed to fall asleep, I had the strangest dream. Maybe because of all the big deal of moving out, or having a roommate for the first time, or even because of her brother’s cryptic phone call with the weirdest “advice”. I dreamed I was back at the apartment Lily and I had rented together, before breakage fees, and before the dream had turned out to be a nightmare.

She and I had had an agreement in which I was free to do whatever I wanted with the kitchen, as long as I left the bedroom in her charge. Every little detail in there screamed Lily, from the perfectly white walls, curtains and bedding, to the constant changing of the lampshades, potted flowers, the smells and tastes of the environment and of her perfumes, lotions and chapsticks. The jasmine-scented body lotion had made an impression on me, it was the one she kept using the longest. At that point, I might have thought that the fate of the jasmine cream and mine were somehow similar, but eventually she got tired of it anyway. In a sense, I was right.

I woke up with a throbbing headache, and wobbled my way to the bathroom unaware that I was already late for work. A light-blue post-it note stuck to the mirror greeted me next to my suddenly smiling reflection.  _ Good morning, roomie. Hope you have a nice day. Come to the kitchen and let’s have some coffee. _

I brushed my teeth and lazily washed my face, and when I came back to the bedroom, I finally looked at the alarm clock and realized the time. The morning rush didn’t help at all with my headache, but luckily our preparations from last night made the whole process faster. I quickly changed and ran to the living area, discovering Akira already up and about.

She was sitting on the couch with her computer resting on her lap, as she absent-mindedly watched the morning news while still in her pajamas. She wore short, loose grey cotton shorts and a baggy short-sleeved black t-shirt. Her elbow was placed on the arm of the sofa, and her fist supported her head. I cleared my throat to try and get her attention, but she was much farther than I had anticipated.

“Morning,” I greeted her, and she startled back to earth, turning to me with a cool smile.

“Hey, stranger,” she said in a raspy voice, her tired eyes sparkling towards me. “Ready for some coffee?”

“Yes, please. Caffeine should help me with my headache.”

“Ooh, you have a headache?” she jumped out of the couch and brought me to the kitchen. “It’s okay, this happens.” Akira immediately propped a glass of water and a red round pill on my hands. “Are you good with Tylenol?”

“Sure,” I agreed. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure.” Akira continued to twirl around the kitchen, searching for stuff. “You’re one of those kids who used to have tummy aches when you first slept over at a friend’s house, aren’t you?”

“You have the most random yet accurate analogies.” I had to observe, and she laughed, shrugging.

“It’s a gift. Sorry, I completely lost track of time, otherwise I would have tried my hand at some breakfast.” She gave me instead two packets of Japanese rice crackers. “I’ll give you these, and we can share a box of Pocky. Deal?”

“Oh, shit. I’d love to, but I’m already late,” I gave her my first apologetic look, to which she smirked. “I’ll be back by six, though. Dinner?”

“I’ll call Mr. Wang,” Akira said as she accompanied me to the door. “Have a great day.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready to go, too?” I asked as she practically shoved me out the door, and she shook her head, making my stomach turn.

“My boss said I’m good for another hour,” she winked, and bit her lip realizing our once again short distance. “Bye!” Akira greeted me, finally pushing me out and closing the door behind me.

* * *

As it turns out, living with a practical stranger wasn’t as bad as I had once thought. Part of the reason was because she had been trying her best to make me feel at home, and had been very effective at it. Beneath that, perhaps, was the fact that we had some stuff in common, and our shared sense of humor made it immediately easier to be comfortable around her, despite the fact that we were still trying to figure each other out.

Akira really was much different in her natural habitat than she was when we were together with the crew, but for the first few days she tried her best to keep up the hype, which was probably one of the cutest things I had ever seen in my life. I couldn’t shake the feeling, though, that the gap that I had been seeing between the two versions of Akira had something more to it than the environment, I just couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

Most of the nights I’d come home and she’d already be waiting for me. The first couple of days she and I had ordered food from the Chinese restaurant Sam had talked about, and honestly his descriptions of it didn’t even come close to the heavenly experience of the real thing. On Wednesday she texted me to say she’d be coming home late, and I decided to do my best to wait for her arrival, but ended up passing out on the couch. I woke up the next morning with the smell of coffee and something burning. The awful one stuck to the warm violet patchwork blanket that was on top of me.

I don’t know how to say this in a gentle manner. Not everybody can cook. And, not that I am a picky eater or anything, but suddenly Sam’s first advice made all the sense in the world. It truly warmed my heart to see her searching for cooking recipes and trying her best throughout the rest of the week, but it was getting harder to get out the crisps that stuck to the bottom of the pans as I washed the dinner dishes. That’s why, on the Friday of the following week, I made sure to get released earlier than her by my boss and go for a quick grocery shopping.

Realizing that was my chance to repay all of the kindness Akira had shown me since I had moved in, I decided to go all in and just make a fancy risotto with mushrooms and shrimp, accompanied by a fresh arugula salad. Before that, I texted Sam to check if she wasn’t allergic to any of the ingredients—especially because poisoning someone isn’t a very good way to show my appreciation for them—, and he asked me if I was already at the point of tapping out. I bit my lip and replied that I just wanted to do something fancy for a Friday dinner. That technically wasn’t a lie, but because I was still mulling over the things he told me in that call before I moved in, I felt like I couldn’t explain my reasons in depth.

“Ooh, what’s that smell?” was the first thing she said right after coming in. “I’m home!”

“Hey, I’m over here,” I warned her, as she took off her shoes by the entrance and made her way over.

“Damn, this is fancy,” she observed, sipping some of the white wine I was having. “Are you secretly a chef or something?”

“No! C’mon, this is just a risotto,” I explained, as I chopped some cilantro.

“Oh, shut up! ‘Just’ a risotto?” she bumped her shoulder against mine. “Let me help,” she said, rolling up her sleeves and washing her hands on the kitchen sink. She picked up a giant knife and I halted her right away, putting the weapon back down and offering an apron just like the one I was using.

“Here, you can grate this cheese,” I gave her the grater and a block of parmesan. She gave me a side glance and a puzzling smirk. “I wasn’t gonna let you feed us charcoal again.”

“RUde!” she feigned offense, and I chuckled as she clumsily grated the cheese into a bowl. “I was trying my best!”

“I know, I know,” I assured her with pats on the back. “I’m really thankful for everything you’ve been doing for me.”

“Own, if you’re sweet like that I can’t stay mad,” she pouted. “Why are you such a rascal?”

“Way better than being a weasel.”

She watched me attentively as I finished making the risotto, and even proposed to help me chop something—anything—, but unfortunately there was nothing else to be chopped that could satisfy her desire to reenact Ghost’s pottery scene. We chatted and drank a little wine as I cooked, and she cleared the table and two of the chairs especially so that we could have a fancy dine in.

“This is so good I could cry.” she said then, after having a taste.

“You’re exaggerating,” I brushed it off, internally jumping for joy with the validation. “You did a good job as well these days.”

“Are you kidding me? I totally hate you for letting me feed you garbage all this time.” she pouted again, and I laughed. “When I grow up, I wanna cook like you.”

“Well, at least then your brother could cross a worry off his list.” She raised an eyebrow at her dish. “By the way, have you been sleeping?”

“You talked to Sam?” she asked then, shooting her eyes up to me. Then everything clicked in my brain. I nodded.

“I talked to him today, I had to make sure this food wasn’t going to be poisonous for either of us.”

“How did he sound?” she prodded.

“I didn’t actually call him, I just texted. Last time we called was before I even moved in.” she nodded and hummed in understanding. “He was worried about you eating and sleeping.”

“Yeah, between the two of us I’m the fun one, believe it or not.” She joked, but I already knew that.

“You mentioned before that you had trouble sleeping.” I started then, still unsure from where to begin. “I was just wondering if you’ve been having a lot on your plate this past few days… you know, with me moving in and all.”

“No! Not at all, it’s been a blast.” her eyes seemed frank, but still gentle and careful. We smiled together. “I’m always the one being taken care of, with what having an overprotective brother and such… It’s nice to be on the other end of things for a change.” Her eyes wandered for a second, but came straight back to me as she cracked a smirk. “How am I doing?” Akira asked, and winked. I chortled.

“I feel babied, thanks.” I confessed, and she cackled. “Or more like, with the cute mirror notes and all… like newlyweds?”

“So then I’m wife-material?” With her alluring smile, I couldn’t tell if she was just tipsy or flirting, so I bit back a smile. “Dinner and a flattery show, you know how to make a lady happy.”

I was unsure between insisting on the serious route of conversation or indulging her in the comedic escape she tried to introduce. Seeing that she seemed to be almost desperately holding out for the jokes, I decided to leave her alone for the time being, thinking that she’d open up and let her hair down eventually in the course of the night.

That didn’t really happen, though, and after the dinner and dishes, we sat down on the couch. Akira let me pick a movie for us to watch as a thanks for my thanks, and after opening up the pullout chaise lounge of the couch we were comfortable enough to snuggle up with the rest of the bottle of wine and watch House on Haunted Hill. She gave me the “okay” after being seduced by the synopsis.

Most of the time I divided my attention between the movie and her reactions. Sometime in the middle of the film, though, the desire to go back to the previous conversation grew impossible to control, and I had to pick it up.

“But really… I don’t know if it’s just my impression, or if you’ve been kind of down… are you missing your brother?” I blurted out, and she bit her lip discreetly.

“It’s, uh…  _ complicated _ ,” she admitted, glancing over to me with an awkward smile. “It’s a different complication from yours, of course, but still… complicated.”

“You don’t need to explain it to me if you don’t want to,” I assured her before anything, patting her knees that rested over my lap. “But if it’ll help you unburden, even if just a little, then I’m all ears.”

She pondered for a second, and then nodded, moving closer and resting her head on my chest and shoulder, stretching out her legs beside mine on the chaise. I was caught by surprise, but not at all bothered. I just let her get cozy and wrapped my arm around her shoulders, using my free hand to cover us both with the patchwork blanket. She cleared her throat about two or three times, but couldn’t shake loose the words that were stuck to her windpipes.

“My brother and I are very different, you know… and, honestly I think part of it is my fault, but he’s always taken up the task of being the ‘older brother’. But it’s very funny, because I worry about him over there while he worries about me over here,” she gave me a weak smile. “He’s always super busy with his job and his life, but he always makes sure that I’m included, you know. In everything. Even in his circle of friends, he knows there’s always someone in there who’ll keep me company when he’s not around. I think it’s part of the twin thing, right?”

“What is?” I asked, and she shrugged, picking on her nails.

“We worry because we know exactly how things are when the other one’s not around.” Akira made a pained expression for a second, but upon turning her eyes to me let out a shy smile. “Sorry, it’s just… I really thought I’d be taking this better.”

“It’s okay.” I assured her, unconsciously holding her tighter. “From talking to him the other day I already knew this, but you guys… are very lucky. To have each other, you know? People sometimes spend an entire life to find someone to be unapologetically ourselves with. And you were born with him!” I almost yelled, and she chuckled lightly, making my heart unclench a little.

“Yeah, you could say I’m his shadow clone.” she joked, rolling her eyes. “It just sucks not to have him here and not be able to be over there.”

“I know.” I stroked her hair and patted her back. “But it’s going to be fine. I just know it. Just by seeing the way you protect each other, I know you’re going to make it alright. And, in the meantime, if you ever need someone to be your uncensored self…” I pointed at myself. “Explicit yourself away!”

She smiled weakly once more, wrapping her arms around my neck and hugging me back. She muttered something against the skin of her arm, but I couldn’t make out what it was. I tilted my head to try and get a hint from her expression or something, but she just lifted her face towards mine and gave me a gentle peck on the lips. I froze. My eyebrows frowned on their own as she raised her eyes towards mine. A tiny smile crept up on the corner of my mouth.

“O-okay…?” I managed to say after a while, and she giggled.

“Okay?”

“Okay…”

“Okay.” Akira nodded, snuggling up and turning back to the big screen, just in time to see Nora and Annabelle’s chilling conversation.

* * *

There were many mornings in which we’d wake up snuggling on the couch with sore necks, so much so that the pullout chaise lounge had never been retreated since the night of the kiss. I still bit my lip whenever that memory came to mind, and a tiny, creepy smile appeared against my will. It was so weird that such a minor thing could make my entire body do things I didn’t ask—or expect—it to do. 

After the talk that night, her versions started somewhat blending together, and she got closer to the version of her I had grown accustomed to seeing before I moved in. From that night on we became much more intimate, and a lot more jokier. She took a special liking to my newlywed joke, and didn’t miss one opportunity to relive it. We didn’t talk of the kiss or of Sam, but the rest of his advice still echoed in my brain every once in a while, although fainter than previously.

On Wednesdays she’d always come back late, and that was thanks to a parallel project she ran alongside the local high school’s English teacher. Every once in a while she or I would go out on Saturday evenings as well, but most of the time we’d be at home messing around. She and I even started learning to cook Japanese food, since it was a skill that was foreign enough for the both of us.

One fateful day, Akira and I decided to try and make some Japanese fried chicken, but we were having contradictions as to how to season it. Confused, she called Sam for clarity.

“Yeah, we cut the momo already,” Akira explained to her brother, while I tried my third attempt at a seasoning sauce. “Oh,  _ boil _ the sauce before dipping the skewer…”

“Oh…!” I mimicked her overly understanding tone. “Then let’s try boiling this one, the one without sugar.”

“I thought you preferred the sweet one…”

“But you like the salty one, so let’s do that,” I shrugged. “It’s no problem.”

“Oh, honey, you’re the best!” she blew me a kiss from which I pretended to dodge away. She laughed. “Okay, Sam, take care. Thanks for the hint. I’ll call you again later.”

Before hanging up, she heard Sam say something and put the smartphone back near her ear. She listened to him attentively and answered him something in Japanese. His response made her roll her eyes and chuckle, and then she said bye bye and hung up.

Strangely, the next day, Sam had returned to the apartment to “hang out” for a while. He ended up sleeping on the couch while the three of us watched a random romantic comedy, and I gave him a ride to the hospital the next morning.


	8. Cat Got Your Tongue?

All the happiness brought by the honeymoon period after moving in had been totally crushed by the following month. I entered a new project at my job and had to leave earlier than usual, arriving way past dinner time. Margot and I were both having the hardest time keeping up with the rest of our team, especially since most of them were at least six or seven years younger than us, but at last the testing phase was over and as a reward we received a day off on Monday.

Akira was also getting busy with the stationery needs of the people who were about to get married in the upcoming Fall, and therefore had been making a lot of research and placing orders here and there for new materials and the like. She was so busy these past few days that on more than one occasion she ended up staying over at the shop, and as a result we’d sometimes spend days without even seeing each other.

We still hadn’t talked about the kiss, nor done anything beyond that, but it was damn near impossible not to think about it, in many ways. The strangest part was it not feeling strange at all, and yet totally different from anything of the sort that had ever happened to me before. But there were still some things bothering me, and what bothered me most was that I just couldn’t do anything about them.

* * *

“Well, this is an incredible sight,” Saul noticed, with his usual crooked smile.

At the dining table, the five of us sat around the billions of different hotel options for the wedding guests. The couple sitting before us looked more stressed than ever since the beginning of this whole process, and among all of us the only one who had at least a peaceful semblant was Sam, blissfully sitting between Akira and me. He was focused on the hotel proposals, and seemed to be inclined to pick one the closest to the venue, so that we all could stay there as well.

“Aren’t the three of you chummy? And here we were thinking we wouldn’t see your face around this apartment so soon,” Saul glanced weirdly towards Sam. “Weren’t you supposed to be back living with your parents?”

“These days have been kind of busy at the hospital, so crashing here saves me some time,” Sam explained simply, and turned his eyes back to the pamphlets. “As I was saying, I think this one would be best for the first option.”

“Isn’t this too expensive, though? Angie’s relatives from Michigan would have a hard time staying there,” I intervened, pushing another paper towards the center of the table. “Maybe this one would be a better first option,” I showed them the hotel that was just a few blocks away from Akira’s bookstore. “This one is more accessible, and if the budget gets tight we can just take care of the transportation.”

“But Sam’s suggestion is good for you two and the immediate participants to stay at. It would save us some trouble gathering, should anything happen.”

“Good thinking, Aki,” Angelo pointed to her with a tired smile, and wrote down the name of yet another possible hotel.

“You guys are no help at all,” Saul complained. “We came over here so you’d shorten our list, not broaden it.”

“It’s not our fault you guys suck at picking shit,” I shrugged, and Saul shot me a death glare. “Isn’t it early for you guys to be thinking of this now, anyway? You haven’t even gotten a photographer yet.”

“First of all, rude. Second of all, we _do_ have a photographer, thank you very much.”

“It’s the caterer that worries us,” Angelo confessed, and Sam snickered.

“Just ask Pat,” Sam shrugged. “He’s pretty popular in the wedding industry.”

“Saul and Patrick had a small disagreement in regards to chicken, so it’s a no,” Angie bit back a pout, and Saul sighed.

“It’s a bad omen!” He tried to explain himself. “I don’t want to be scratching and pecking on the ground as a newlywed! No sir, no chicken at the wedding!”

“We eat chicken all the time, though,” Angie rolled his eyes while Saul wasn’t watching, and we snorted.

“And exactly how many years did it take for us to be getting married in the first place?” Saul raised an eyebrow, surely thinking he had a great point.

“Good point,” Angie agreed, surprisingly. “Anyway, if it’s not too much to ask, we’d appreciate it if one of you could find some new caterers we could get in contact with. At this point, as long as they’re okay with participating in an LGBT wedding we’re willing to negotiate.”

“Mr. Wang could probably be okay with it,” Sam joked, shaking the white noodle box he had in his hands. Saul huffed.

“I will murder you.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” I advised him. “We can search around a little more, but I think you should give us a list of the people you actually came in contact with already. Just text us whenever.”

“Ceci is actually a cook,” Akira said then, as a lightbulb lit in her brain. “I don’t think she’s ever catered before, but she cooks at Marshall’s…”

“We’ll call her,” Saul decided immediately, and Angelo seemed to have the same resolve in his mind. I cracked a smile. Angie had met their idol before and he didn’t even know it.

* * *

The wedding-related visit had put the grooms’ minds to rest for a little while, and it surprised me that they were already at this level of stress eight months away from the real deal. They left earlier than they would have for a Friday night, had they not been in work-mode, and then the three of us were left to our own devices once more. A few moments later, though, Sam’s phone rang and he ran into Akira’s room.

“What’s up with that now?” Kira looked suspicious. “I know I said I missed him, but it’s been a month of this weirdness.”

“I think he misses living with you, too,” I tried to clear the air.

“Well, now I have a new best friend,” she shrugged, winking at me. “Whose turn is it to do the dishes?”

“Sam’s,” I said, with a wry smile, and she rolled her eyes, pulling up a fist.

“Rock, paper, scissors?”

“How about we do them together?” I proposed instead, and she gave me a suggestive smirk.

“How about you do the dishes and I watch from over here?”

“C’mon, don’t do me like that,” I tried to appeal to her gentle side, but still had to basically kidnap her into the kitchen anyway, grabbing her by the shoulders and pushing her gently as she pretended to resist.

Her face lately looked more tired than when we first started living together. Subtle dark circles appeared under her eyes, and she’d drink several cups of coffee at all hours of the day. Her hair had also grown a little longer, and as she rinsed the plates and silverware, an insistent lock of hair kept falling in front of her face, despite her best efforts of blowing it to the side with her mouth. I dried my hands on the nearest cloth I found after finishing my part and secured the lock of hair behind her ear. She gave me a smile as a thanks.

“When did you last sleep?” I asked her, and she laughed.

“You’re actually starting to sound like Sam, you know…”

“Well, you’re starting to look like Samara Morgan, so…” I refuted, and she glared at me.

“I sleep plenty, thanks.” She rolled her eyes and shook her hands over the sink before drying them. “And you’re one to talk. These past few days you’re looking like an extra on The Walking Dead, yourself.”

“Yeah, the testing phase is always a bitch.” I stretched and all the bones of my back popped. She rubbed my shoulder plate.

“You should use the bathroom first.”

“But it’s…”

“We can hang out tomorrow, honey,” she assured me. “I should call Ceci, about the whole catering thing.”

“Yeah, I’ll check up on Saul as well. We’re all kind of shitty these days, huh.” she nodded and I gave her a peck on the forehead, heading back to my room before going for a quick shower.

Despite the fact that Sam had been staying over  _ a lot _ over the past month, the house didn’t feel crowded at all, and I had taken quite a liking to having a roommate. Or, in this present conjunction,  _ roommates.  _ I no longer had weird dreams about Lily or the other house I lived in, but every once in a while I’d get a lonely text from Dan that’d make me feel a pang in the heart. That night, after a quick shower, I decided to call him.

“Hey, man. How are you two holding up?”

“We’re good, man. How about yourself?” His cool tone of voice was definitely a facade, but I thought it better not to pry.

“I’m trashed out. If I sit still too long I’ll crash right here.”

“Work’s tough? Or are you up to something with your new roomie?”

“Shut up, asshole.” I rolled my eyes, closing my bedroom door behind me. “Actually, there’s been something on my mind…”

“Oh, give me.” He sounded ecstatic. “Wait a minute, I’ll put Jada on as well.”

“No, wait…”

“Hi, Nick! How you doing?” Jada whisper-screamed into the mic. I snorted.

“I’m good, J.”

“What’s up?” Dan instigated, and I bit my lip.

“Okay, this is between us… but just the other day, before I moved in, Sam and I talked on the phone and he said some stuff. I thought that he was, like, worried for his sister and all, but he ended up telling me that ‘I shouldn’t fall in love with her’. And then, lately, he’s been coming home over here and sleeping over. Like,  _ a lot _ .”

“Why the hell did he tell you that?” Jada sounded outraged.

“Beats me.” I sighed. “He said I’d regret it.”

“That sounds rough…”

“On her,” Jada completed her boyfriend’s phrase. “It’s rough  _ on her _ . What is up with that?”

“Maybe he’s just trying to protect her from Nick, you know. He looks like a player,” Dan said, and I almost choked. “But that’s a horrible strategy, dude. Forbidden fruit, and all that.”

“Nick’s a sweetheart. Maybe she’s the one with baggage,” Jada intervened. “If I were you, I’d talk to her about that. You guys look super close.”

“Nah, that’d be weird as hell, babe. Can you imagine? ‘Hey, your brother said I shouldn’t fall in love with you, what do you think?’” He made a funny voice. “You should wait it out and see.”

“Talk to him instead, then. Isn’t he always around?” Jada insisted. “He’s the one who brought it up, so it’s only fair he gives you an explanation to that.”

“Makes sense,” I admitted.

“Any time.”

I finished my talk with them and passed out on my bed before I could remember calling Saul, and slept like the dead even though it was just a little over nine in the evening. As a result of that, just before four I was already awake. My laziness finally gave in to the thirst and I made my way through the house in the dark in search of some water. At the end of the hall, though, shone by a pale bright light and scary as a ghost, the figure of Akira was sitting at the end of the table, distracted by a book greeted me. I startled and cursed in a low voice, catching her attention, and she gave me a puzzled look.

“Why are you up?” she whispered to me.

“Why are  _ you _ up?”

“Sam’s passed out in my bed,” Akira raised her arms in resignation, closing her laptop and putting her book over it. She followed me to the kitchen, and had a glass of water with me.

“Can’t sleep, huh,” I guessed, and she nodded with a dry smile. “Wanna hang out in my room?”

Akira nodded again, and after finishing our cool drinks we walked back down the hall and into my room, stopping by the bathroom before to brush our teeth. We both sat down awkwardly in my bed and laughed at our own uneasiness. I stretched myself and pulled her closer, covering us both. She took a deep breath and chuckled to herself, observing me carefully as I picked one of her playlists to be our background noise.

“Your comforter smells like soap,” she observed.

“Yeah.”

“And we use the same soap.”

“Mhm,” I agreed, smelling the duvet as well, just in case. “Yeah, it does smell like soap. Better than smelling like cigarettes, though, right?”

“I liked your smell from before.” Akira confessed. “Sorry, I don’t have the brain capacity to have a normal conversation anymore, apparently…”

“Don’t worry. When did you last sleep, anyway?”

“Last time we crashed on the couch,” she said, while playing with her hair.

“Five days ago?!” I almost jumped out of my seat. She chuckled. “How are you even functioning?”

“Great question. The pure strength of hatred? Stardust?” She tilted her head. “Somehow you make me feel sleepy, though.”

“Good. Get some sleep, then.”

“But I wanna keep talking,” she protested in a cutesy tone. “It’s been a long time since we’ve hung out. I’m lonely.”

“We hang out all the time, the three of us. And your brother’s here too. You have double the company now.”

“He’s just fed up already, I’m pretty sure. It takes a toll on him to be the perfect child, you know. Besides, it’s hanging out with you I miss. We’ve barely seen each other properly these past few days.” Akira rolled over and put my arm around her waist. “Is it weird if we cuddle?”

“Maybe?” I guessed, but we were already spooning at that point. She shivered when my breath hit the back of her neck. “This feels good, though,” I mumbled, and she turned towards me. Her eyes sparkled even in the dark, and her pinkish lips kept catching my eye.

“Sorry, do you mind?” she asked, and I shook my head, as we both leaned in for a kiss. “Sorry…”

“Why do you keep apologizing?” I had to ask, placing the rebel lock of hair behind her ear. She shook her head and the lock freed itself right away.

“Cause for some reason I just keep kissing you…” she said, giving me another peck. I smiled on her lips.

“I’m kissing you too, y’know?” I assured her, leaning in and smooching her. She let out a laugh.

“Yeah, why are you doing that?” she asked before kissing me.

“It’s ‘cause you’re just so damn cute…” I managed to say in between our lips as she grinned. Her face felt hotter for a brief moment. “I gotta ask you something.” I blurted out, immediately regretting it. She opened her eyes to look at me.

“Shoot.”

“I don’t know if I should…”

“I’ll get curious if you don’t. And curiosity killed the cat. Meow.”

“Hm, okay…” I agreed, but before saying anything, I tried to borrow some words from her mouth. “Okay.”

“What?”

“Remember you said that Ceci was straight and single?”

“Terrible start, but go on,” she said, and we both giggled.

“Are you?” I asked, and her smile went from hesitant to enticing. Her nose rubbed against mine as she nodded. “Which one, though?” I asked, and she chortled. “Can we keep kissing, then?”

“Who’s the cute one now?” she asked, wrapping her arms around my neck and obliging me. “Was that everything you wanted to ask me?”

“I think so. For now, at least,” I agreed. She nodded, giving me one last kiss.

“I’ll head back, then. I’ll try to get some sleep on the couch…”

“No… Just sleep here. I promise I’ll behave,” I offered her my pinky finger, and she hesitantly wrapped it with hers, with her brows furrowed.

We stayed in that same position, then, looking at each other while the breeze from my open windows gently blew her hair back. A strand of hair tangled against her long lashes and I helped it out of them as she blinked confusedly. She pulled the covers down a little and traced lines against my arm with her fingers, finding their way down. Her hand fit perfectly on mine, and when I clenched them together the corners of her mouth curled upwards.

“It’s funny how you always manage to make me sleepy.”

“Are you calling me boring?” I feigned offense, and she shook her head, burying her nose on my clavicle.

“I’m saying you have a gift.” her lips and mine crooked upwards together, glued to one another. “Okay, put me to sleep, then. Otherwise I’ll be the one who can’t behave.” She pushed me so I’d be on my back, and nestled against my side.

“That wouldn’t be so bad…” I provoked her. “But you do need to sleep. What’s your sleepy time request?” I asked, while giving her gentle pats on the back. She groaned.

“Tell me a story. Anything.”

“Like a fairy tale?”

“No… I’m sick of the same stories all the time. Tell me something that’s only yours.”

“Okay…” I thought for some time, until she finally nudged me back to reality. I chuckled. “My aunt—my mom’s sister—used to have a beach house on the coast, and we used to go there all the time, the whole family, especially in the Summer. If my dad wasn’t travelling, we’d make a fire at the shore and my dad would bring his guitar, and he’d sing and play around, my cousins would even try to go into the water. The ocean gets pretty warm at night, you know, and since it was a house by the sea, just before bedtime we’d go dip our toes in the water.”

She and I sighed together, as if we shared the memory. I could almost smell the salt in the air, the dampness of the room, hear the ceiling fan creeking while it swirled the humid air around. She yawned.

“One night, my cousin and I were walking across the shore, the last night at the house, one last walk before bed. And then he dipped his toes, and the biggest, meannest wave came rolling at us. He and I were wearing our pajamas and all, and we both got swallowed up before we could even realize the wave had come.” She giggled with her eyes closed, her breath tickling my neck. “We were almost scolded to death by our aunt, all exfoliated by the pounds of sand we brought in our clothes, and my cousin wouldn’t open his mouth, not even to cry. Then my aunt asked him, ‘Has the cat got your tongue?’. Then he thought for a minute and said, ‘No, but I think I swallowed a fish’.” I confidently started the grand finale, and as I was saying it, we both burst out laughing, tears rolling down her face to my chest. “I still can’t go to the beach without thinking about him,” I confessed.

“How am I supposed to sleep with that? That’s too good, my belly hurts…”

“Was it that good?” I asked, proud of my work. She wiped her eyes with her fingertips.

“The best,” she admitted, looking into my eyes. “Do all your stories have punchlines?”

“All childhood stories are funny, it’s inevitable.”

“I don’t have any stories like that,” she confessed in a sad tone, but when I looked at her she smirked. “I didn’t have a family of comedians.”

“Nah, I have really boring ones too, but you wouldn’t like them.”

“I’m pretty sure I’d love them just as much,” Akira assured me, and I nodded.

I spent another good while telling her a much less fun story, which she found fun either way. With the gentle tunes running, the wind blowing from the window and the pats in the back, Akira eventually fell asleep, and surprisingly, so did I, with the silence, the warmth of her skin against mine, and the delicious smell of shampoo and sun that came off her head.


	9. Pleasant, Not So Pleasant Surprises

“So, are you sure you don’t want to stay over today, either?” I asked just in case, as Sam and I returned from the rentals, where we spent most of the afternoon looking at bentwood, tolix, and café chairs with Saul. He shook his head and wiggled his car keys.

“I’ll take a quick nap in the car and head back to the hospital. I have the night shift,” he shrugged.

As the Summer installed itself, Sam started showing up less and less at the apartment, and whenever we actually met he seemed to look worse. Unlike Kira, it was blatantly obvious whenever Sam skipped meals or had sleepless nights, and he looked like he had been having many of those around September. Even while we looked at the billions of different napkin choices, Sam yawned discreetly when Saul wasn’t looking, and stretched himself awake whenever the fatigue crept up on him.

“I don’t think you should be driving,” I said then, taking the keys off his hands. “How about we go together to the apartment and you take a nap in there, then I’ll take you to the hospital?”

He glanced at me for a moment but didn’t protest, obediently putting himself at the passenger’s seat and letting me drive carefully back to Franklin. He leaned towards his window, apparently drifting off before we even hit the driveway, and the only thing I could think of is that I was glad that was a Wednesday.

“How are things at the house lately?” Sam asked me in a hoarse voice then, almost scaring me to death by discovering he was still awake.

“Good,” was all I could think of answering, and he let out a tired laugh.

“Just good?” I nodded. “Is Akira sleeping and eating properly? You’re a very good cook, so she must be having a blast.”

“You cook well too,” I glanced over at him for a brief second. “You’re lucky she won’t see you tonight. Are  _ you _ sleeping and eating alright?”

“I’m just adjusting. I really thought it’d be easier to go back home. But they live so much farther from the hospital, and I fear that if I take a job over there, I’ll never be able to come back over here.”

“Can’t you just change your shifts at least?” I asked, and he shook his head.

“I’m a nurse, Nick, not a barista.”

“Well, don’t they know your home situation?” I asked, and he fell silent. “They don’t?”

“It’s just the adjustment. I’ll be back to normal soon enough.” He shrugged it off and closed his eyes again, sighing. “Just drop it.”

I didn’t know what else to say or do in times like these, so I just resorted to giving him gentle pats in the knee. The stress of the past few months had made him go from stiff to almost robotic, but at the same time it was eating at him so fiercely that all his plastic facade had been mostly stripped away; it made him look more human than ever, at least in my eyes.

“It’s tough to talk about family shit with anybody else, right?” I couldn’t tell if Sam was asking me or himself that.

“You can talk about it with Kira, no?”

“I  _ especially _ can’t talk about it with her.” He said. Silence.

“Well, you can talk to me about it, if you’d like to. It seems to be taking a toll on you, and…”

“Why do you care?” he asked suddenly, and sighed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be such…”

“An asshole?” I guessed, and he nodded. “It’s okay, you’re stressed. And by the looks of it I’m a masochist anyway,” I rolled my eyes, and he chuckled. “I’m worried about you. You’re my date for the wedding, after all. And you’re Saul and Angelo’s friend, and Kira’s brother…” He hummed in understanding.

“It’s been only four months, huh,” he said then. “But I was totally intimidated by you even before I met you.”

“What?” I tried to contain my disbelief, but it was impossible. He guffawed.

“Of course! You’re the ‘childhood friend’, the guy who knew everything about the two of them. And they were kind of the first friends I made in the city.”

“Shut up. Them?!”

“Well, not  _ really _ my first friends, but, you know… it’s hard to be closeted, both in the gay community and among the straights. They were the first people around that made me feel comfortable even with this whole situation. They were the first ones who actually knew this… they were much more okay with me being the way I am than even I could be.”

“Yeah, they tend to have that power, especially Angie,” I shrugged.

I parked the car in front of the apartment and we climbed the steps towards the entrance. I let him into the elevator first and pressed the button. The density of the air almost made the elevator sink further down instead.

“I was kind of intimidated by you too, y’know,” I said, and it was his turn to be surprised. “I’m serious. You were ‘their’ friend, not ‘our’ friend. I felt left out.”

“Well, I think you weren’t in such a good place back then, were you?”

“You know about that?” I asked, and he nodded shyly. “Is that why you told me to stay away from Kira?”

“I didn’t say that…” he protested, and when I turned to look at him, he exhaled. “I advised you not to fall in love, but…” he lifted up his shoulders. “That’s up to you two, I shouldn’t have butted in like that.”

“Why did you say that, though?” I asked, offering him a glass of water.

“It’s… I guess because, from my point of view, you guys are in the same kind of limbo, or rather, you’re vulnerable to one another?”

“Could you be any more quizzical?” I mocked, and he giggled. I ruffled his hair and swung my bedroom door open. “You can use my bed if you’d like.”

“Thanks.” His eyes were sincere in mine. “Also, could you wake me up at ten?”

“Yeah, sure,” I agreed, and he blew me a kiss before wobbling into the room.

* * *

“Chiavari, for fuck’s sake!” Saul screamed into the phone, and almost tossed the device out the window. I watched him take three deep breaths and unmute the call. “Chiavari, please.”

“That was impressive,” I argued, at the dramatically Italian climax of his fifteen-minute pretend complaint as he waited for the attendant to get back to him. He shot me a death glare. “What did they say?”

“She said they don’t know of us even being there last week. Can you believe this crap?” Saul blew raspberries at the mic. “You better fucking find the employee who talked to us that day, lady. We paid in advance, cash.” He pouted as he waited for the woman to say something, and showed the darkest, gnarliest smirk. “I’ll shove a Peacock up your ass, lady. Have a nice day.”

He flipped closed his cell phone and threw himself back in his chair, covering his face with his hands. Angelo patted his shoulder, probably making sure that his husband-to-be hadn’t left his body just yet. He and I quickly glanced at each other, and by the looks of it he wasn’t very fond of the Peacock either. I looked at the time on my phone screen, and then around the waiting room, almost sighing with relief when the officiant called us in with a wave.

“So you’re the groomsmen,” she pointed at me and Saul, and Angie frowned aggressively. “I’m just joking. You’re Saul and Angelo, huh. And who would you be?”

“I’m the fairy godmother,” I explained jokingly, and Saul elbowed me. The lady liked it, though. “I’m the maid of honor.”

“He’s been friends with us for a long time, despite his best efforts, so he’ll probably be of much more use than the both of us.” Angie explained, and she gave me a warm smile.

“Okay, but first I need to know what you want your wedding to be like. Things like: are there going to be relatives, do either of you lean towards any religion in particular, what tone do you want to settle?” she carefully explained.

“We wanted the whole thing to be light-hearted. Most of the people who are going to attend are way more used to seeing us together than apart, anyway. But some of my family is a little conservative, so just leave out the buttplug jokes and it should be okay. He and I being together is almost like a natural progression of things, you could say. We’ve known each other for twenty-five years,” Angie explained, and she raised her eyebrows.

“And how long have you been together? When did you know he was gonna be the one?”

“We’ve been dating since last year,” Saul responded hesitantly, and she tilted her head. “I know what you’re thinking, but it just… feels right.”

“It’s admirable, indeed,” she said. “But I want to know if the two of you are really aware of the situation. Who proposed?”

“In a sense, the both of us,” Angelo replied simply. “We know how to read each other’s moods pretty well, we’ve lived together for the longest time and we know exactly where the other wants to be professionally and family-wise. Even when we started dating, it was just natural, like nothing had changed, except we were having sex.”

“Gross,” I couldn’t help but say, and Angie snorted. Saul’s face was still pouty, but at least he didn’t hit me.

“Okay, we can work along those lines, then,” she said, taking notes on everything they were saying. “We can talk about how everything felt natural and comfortable. And, maid of honor?” she called me. “I’d like to have a tete-a-tete with you later on, although right now we’re more on the rough sketch of things.”

“Got it.”

With it being a weekday and all, after the appointment Angelo returned to his work, and I drove Saul back to Akira’s bookstore so we’d order up all the stationery for the ceremony and invitations. During the whole way there, Saul didn’t say a word, which was immediately scary and weird, but then when we finally reached the store, he barged in aggressively and ran towards Akira, throwing himself into her arms and sobbing uncontrollably, while she shot me a look of censure and confusion.

I wasn’t sure anything had happened on the drive that could have provoked that reaction, but then again I once saw this grown-ass man cry because he thought he saw a black cat get run over at the driveway. Turned out to be a trash bag, but he still stopped to check.

Akira gently consoled him as he shook both of them with his violent bawling. When did they even become  _ this _ close? She made a gesture for me to flip the shop’s sign to “closed” and pull down the curtains of the glass entrance, and politely dragged my wreck of a friend to the couches, sitting him down and disappearing to the back, only to return with a tray and three mugs of coffee and tea. There were also some rice cracker packets on the side.

“So basically that means that  _ nothing _ was ever exciting even after we started dating?!” he shouted with a trembling voice. “Why are we even together, then? He’s the one who proposed, that asshole! Why would he ever wanna marry someone when it’s been boring the whole time??”

“He didn’t mean it like that, dude,” I tried to intercede for Angelo. “He just feels comfortable around you. You know how he is…”

“Apparently, I don’t! I mean, I basically had to shove in his face the possibility of us moving forward together! I proposed that he propose!!”

“Well, then do you think he doesn’t love you?” Akira blew on her coffee, looking straight ahead to the bookcase in front of her. His eyes shot up towards her.

“Uh, no… but…”

“Your notions of love may be different, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there. Part of the whole relationship thing is that now you have two life perspectives to look through: yours and his.” Her eyes wandered through the titles, despite Saul and I having ours fixed on her. “You just can’t forget that. Isn’t it good enough, that he makes you feel excited and you make him feel secure?”

“I don’t know if ‘good enough’ is good enough, though…” Saul said then, finally grabbing her attention.

“Why? It’s way more than most of us get.” Her eyes turned to me for a moment. “Having ‘someone to be unapologetically ourselves with’, was it? If there’s any chance you think he might be it, don’t ever take him for granted. The rest is just background noise.” She smiled warmly at Saul, sniffing and sobbing quietly.

“I gotta go.”

Saul shot up from his seat and propped the mug carelessly on the coffee table between us. She and I watched him unlock the door and run out, leaving the strange aura he had brought with him behind. I approached Akira and sat beside her, as we sipped our coffees quietly, looking at the shelfs in front of us. It took me some amount of courage, but I managed to guide my hand to her knee, somehow grabbing her attention. She smirked at me and my lips automatically mimicked hers.

“Thanks.”

“Was I too harsh on him?” She gave me a crinkled nose and a frown. I shook my head negatively. “I borrowed some words from you, but you’re much better at giving consolation…”

“You did good. He’s stubborn as a mule, probably wouldn’t listen to me no matter what I said.” I wiggled my thumb to caress her thigh. “He hates sugar-coating.”

“I know. He’s exactly like Sam, sometimes they just need a reality-check.” She looked at the clock on the wall behind the counter, and then turned her eyes to me again. “Are you free, or do you have to go back to work?”

“I took the day off to do maid-of-honor stuff.”

“Run around like crazy and get stressed?" she guessed correctly, and I had to nod. "Should I just play hooky with you, then?” she proposed with a playful smile. I raised an eyebrow.

“Won’t your boss be angry if you close shop now?” I asked daringly.

“She’ll be easily persuaded with a walk in the park.”

* * *

One of the many fantastic functions of the V.I.P was that, being a piece of nature in the middle of a mostly concrete jungle, it was capable of shifting completely the air within and around it simply by being there. As soon as we left my car and headed to the main gates, taking three deep breaths was enough to recharge our batteries. The humidity and freshness of the air cut a little bit of the damp heat of that mid-September hellish day, and under the shade of the trees, so near the river, the sensation was almost otherworldly.

We wandered to the eating area while deciding which would be our next attraction for movie night, sharing a very expensive fruit salad that ended up being worth it. After just a little while, her face had already turned red and shiny. Her sunglasses constantly slipping down to the tip of her nose started getting on her nerves, so she pushed them up to her hair, revealing just how much her hazel eyes twinkled with the sunlight. They seemed especially attentive that afternoon, and yet it took me a little while to realize she was trying to get me to relax and unwind.

She didn’t back away when I leaned in for a kiss, but I could feel her surprised smile on my lips and the slight tilt of her head. Somehow ever since before, both of us were becoming less and less able to keep away from each other, but it still felt amazing to taste her strawberry-flavored lip balm. Akira, though, would sometimes avert her gaze with a puzzled look on her face that’d allow me to hope for something, I just didn’t know what yet. After shoving the last strawberry slice in my mouth, she invited me back to walking with a tilt of her head.

We got back to the main area and while walking, my eyes were caught by a bed of yellow primroses still blooming near the river, under the big shade of an oak tree. Akira also seemed interested, so I jumped the tiny fence and walked over to them, picking a couple of them and bringing them over to her. She put one in her hair and the other ones in the chest pocket of her green shirt.

“This breeze is just the chef’s touch, huh,” Akira observed, before turning her gaze towards me. “I’d ask you about the shower, but…”

“You’d hate it if I had a mental breakdown in the middle of the park, right?” My quip deep down contained truth, but she laughed at it anyway. “Though I doubt I’ll be able to outstage Saul…”

“I get him,” she stated, and I turned to her with confusion. She shrugged. “I mean, forever? With one guy? Wouldn’t you be freaked out, too?”

“With one guy? Absolutely,” I joked, and she snorted. “But, well… we’ve all been friends since we were eight. In a sense, they have been together since forever. At this point they must know everything about each other, so maybe Saul fears things will get boring.”

“I don’t know about that. We never really know what’s going on inside the other person. Thinking we know everything about them is just us fooling ourselves.”

I was completely taken aback by such a sober comment from Akira, especially since she was always so optimistic in regards to romances and happy endings, picking mostly tooth-rotting rom-coms to fall asleep to during movie nights. She noticed my surprise and gave me a cheerful smile that somehow looked distant, chuckling upon realizing I probably didn’t have a proper reply ready for her yet.

“And besides, everybody knows that it’s the hilarious jokes and amazing cooking skills that pay the bills. That’s the secret to everlasting relationships, no?”

“Do you promise?” I asked, giving her puppy-dog eyes, and she threw her head back in laughter.

As we walked and joked around, though, the light, fresh air around us suddenly shifted again. From a blissful walk in the park, an odd feeling of being watched arose, like turning into a prey. I searched for the hungry eyes that seemed to be following us around, restless, and finally I caught those olive-green peepers staring right at us. I almost tripped on thin air upon spotting them, so just as a precaution I slowed down.

I didn’t know exactly where to put the blame on. If the timing hadn’t been so odd. If she had showed up anytime after that, or if it didn’t happen right when I was having such a pleasant day. Right when I was on a nice walk with Akira, in broad daylight, talking and laughing, hovering between the deepest of conversations and playful jokes. I couldn’t tell if she was wrong by showing up in my path, precisely when I was beginning to feel normal again, or if I was wrong by letting it bother me so much. But it did bother me, and I couldn’t tell why nor do anything about it.

Akira’s eyes were much sharper, even than  _ hers _ . She glanced over at me and bit her lower lip, unconvinced by my meek smile. She searched for something in my eyes for a brief moment and I let her, and just short of the whole thing unfolding before us, she decided I wouldn’t cross that threshold on my own. Akira grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers, showing me a bright smile that distracted me from whatever else could be going on anywhere around us. She pulled me through and brought me safely back to the parking lot, where I could at last recompose myself.

“Sorry…” I began, and she shook her head immediately, rejecting my apologies and squeezing my hand, still in hers. She chuckled shyly.

“I guess I might have done something unnecessary…” she began hesitantly, again searching my eyes for something useful. “I won’t apologize, though,” she made a cute playful face and showed me her tongue.

“Thanks,” I appreciated, and she caressed my shoulder.

“Do you need a moment?” she asked, and I nodded, searching my pockets for a lighter. “I’ll go to the restrooms, then. I’ll be right back.”

She gave me one last look before turning her back and walking away. I lit a cigarette as I watched her go without hesitancy, and just before she disappeared from my sights, my focus was pulled by the tiny, slim figure approaching me from the gates. The same walk, with her purse on one hand and a menthol cigarette on the other, and a puzzling face that’d send shivers down my spine over and over again. I gulped when the click clack of her heels became louder, and echoed through the silence between the two of us.


End file.
